The Cut of Your Love Never Hurts, Baby
by FlyOnTheWall14
Summary: Plagued with guilt after possibly ruining Anna's happily-ever-after, Elsa is forced to make a difficult decision. Was it wrong to do the same to another woman - worse yet to fall in love with her? Willing to ruin lives to ensure Anna's happiness, Elsa must face the consequences: A scorned princess, widespread insurgency, and said princess's furious ex-lover. Elsa/fOC.
1. Sorrow is Just All the Rage

**A/N: Hey there guys. I would like to start by saying that this story was inspired by a couple of fics and one-shots I read, as well as my own desire to further explore a few concepts and ideas that were knocking around my head.  
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 **WintermoonQueen's _Crystallized Pigments_ inspired this and, though this actually no longer bears much resemblance to their one shot, I feel it necessary to give credit as I likely wouldn't have been inspired to go ahead with writing this if I hadn't read it.  
**

 **Onora's _Daughters of Arendelle_ also inspired parts of this. It's a really great story and – although still in the works – I have enjoyed reading it so far. I love Anna and Elsa in this fic; their interactions are very in character and a certain part of a chapter inspired a large part of this story. I promise, it's a good read.  
**

 **So I guess thanks are in order. Thanks to both writers for sharing their words with us. You should go read them both; they're cool. And thanks to you if you're reading this.  
**

 **Oh, and I DON'T OWN FROZEN! (just in case you were somehow under the illusion that I did)**

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*{-} **Sorrow is Just All the Rage** {-}*

Locked jaw. Stoic expression. A queen must not reveal her emotions. Her father always told her she was a remarkably clever girl: "Do not let your emotion outweigh your intelligence." That's what he said. "A successful queen would never let her heart rule her head." He said it would help her. If she wanted to be successful, then she should rule with her head and not let emotions corrupt her decisions.

She must have been fourteen or fifteen when he said it. The young princess had frozen her room in a freezing fit of teenage temper.

She remembered that they had been talking about Anna. Then, Elsa had asked if she might soon be able to see the other princess more often. They sometimes managed to glimpse each other in brief passing, but other than that, the sisters were practically strangers. Agnarr had gently refused, claiming that he believed Elsa should have total control of her power before she could be allowed to be with Anna for extended periods of time. Elsa had protested, claiming that she barely knew the girl she called sister and that she could indeed control her power – a lie even her adolescent anger could see through.

Tears formed in her eyes and he tried to calm her, reminding her that getting upset wouldn't solve anything; she would learn to control it one day, but she had to work harder. And cue the adolescent ice explosion.

Try _harder_? Couldn't he see that she was trying? Couldn't he see that she wanted this with every fibre of her being? To imply she wasn't trying hard enough was just an insult to her efforts!

She had raged at him, telling him that he didn't understand just how hard it actually was. She told him he didn't care about her. She accused him of keeping her locked away from Anna because he thought her a monster, lying to her face day in, day out and feeding her false hope that one day – one day – she could be with Anna again.

Elsa had yelled until she was blue in the face, blood thumping in her ears, heart hammering against her ribs. Her anger, though outwardly directed towards her father, was really meant for herself. She knew it wasn't his fault. It was hers; she needed to control this curse if she were ever to see her sister again. It wasn't his fault.

It was odd; despite her adolescence, the princess had never allowed herself to get so carried away with her emotions. Such a show was uncharacteristic of the blonde girl; Elsa knew it was dangerous. Often she suppressed emotion for fear of harming those around her. This sudden show of anger and frustration was completely unexpected. Elsa knew her emotions were dangerous and she tried ever so hard to control them but, on this one occasion, the rage had slipped out and she was unable to feel anything but the bitter sting of her father's rejection.

The burning of vexation in her chest was such a powerful and frightening contrast to the usual gloom of guilt and despair that swallowed her stomach. Her own anger was terrifying.

She knew as soon as she had finished ranting that she was wrong to let such thoughts creep into her mind and spill from her mouth. The stalagmites and stalactites that protruded from the floor, ceiling and walls of her bedroom were evidence of why she couldn't be with Anna; she was dangerous and unpredictable. And she had continued to believe that for many of the following years.

Her father's face had remained stolid, displaying his usual sangfroid, but his eyes – God she saw it in his eyes. The shock – which she had mistaken for fear – and the pain and something akin to disappointment. He said it, his voice not cracking – not once wavering.

"You are such a remarkable girl, Elsa. Do not let your emotion outweigh your intelligence; emotion can corrupt perspective. Your mother and I wish the day where you and Anna may be together again would come sooner. To be successful, you must let your head guide you; a successful queen would never let her heart rule her head. You're far too clever to believe we would ever wish to deprive you or your sister." Elsa had frowned at him with all the stubbornness expected of a hormonal ice princess; she was not willing to admit defeat yet was secretly horrified at the destruction she had caused and the danger she had put her father in.

She understood his words. She was selfish to desire more contact with her sister despite her delusions of control. Elsa knew she should be thinking about the danger she would be putting her in, the possibility of hurting her. She needed to find the balance between thought and emotion.

His wise words and fearless expression in the face of such danger had always stayed with her. She remembered her father as a brave man – brave, even in the face of his witch-daughter. Brave. Stoic. Seemingly indifferent. She knew he cared in his own way and if there was ever a time for her to remember his words, it was now.

* * *

Elsa looked at the councilors before her, their own expressions betraying them. Fear, worry, uncertainty.

The men they spoke of sounded dangerous. She wanted to hate those men. The ones that spat her name like a curse. She wanted to despise them – wanted to be furious with them for even thinking she had anything but good intentions.

Arendelle was her kingdom, her home. She wanted to detest them and yet, she found she just couldn't. Elsa understood all too well the fear of her own abilities. She had felt that same fear for years; she had let it control her for such a long time. Elsa knew fear was an inevitable reaction to her powers and it was for that reason she couldn't hate them.

Elsa couldn't let her indignation influence her actions. She had to dismiss the way it made her feel and think how best to handle the situation the way a queen should, for the benefit of her people.

She had to understand their fear, not react to it.

She cleared her throat and motioned for Lady Brekke, overseer of kingdom affairs, to continue.

"As of last night we have to view these men as a threat, ma'am. To both you and to Arendelle. At the moment they are a small group, but their persistence concerns us; their numbers are slowly growing."

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, taking the woman's words in and processing them.

"What do we know about them?" Elsa asked.

"Not much, ma'am. As far as we can tell, they are just rebellious individuals of Arendelle. There have been protests, most against your position on the throne – some more violent than others. They curse your name and your blood, claim you to be a malignant sorceress. Until last night, they had not harmed anyone, though it seems things have taken quite a violent turn as of late."

There was a silence before captain Halvørsen cleared his throat to speak.

"Your Majesty, in light of these recent events, I wish to increase the castle guard on duty. Though the threat may not be of prominence at this moment in time, I believe it best that we prepare for the worst."

Elsa felt her brows twitch, threatening a frown. She knew, as a queen, she couldn't afford to allow pride to cloud her judgement. It could prove fatal. If an increase in the men guarding the castle was necessary, then she certainly wasn't going to endanger her sister, the staff or herself by refusing. Though the suggestion of increasing the guard detail revealed more to her on its own than anything that had been said so far.

"Be truthful with me, captain Halvørsen." Their eyes met; her expression remained hard. She and the captain didn't always see eye to eye, but she knew that where the safety of Arendelle was concerned, they were usually more or less on the same page. But, if there was anyone she could count on to tell her the cold, hard truth, it was him.

His grey eyes, a murky lake through which she could not even see her own reflection, narrowed slightly. A sign she was right; this ran deeper than he cared to admit.

"During these protests... They sometimes gather in the streets, shouting insults and spitting obscenities. We had wished to see if increasing the frequency of guard patrols and enforcing minor punishments might discourage them. At the time, I didn't think it necessary to bother you with such trivialities."

"And I assume that was unsuccessful; it took someone getting hurt before I was made aware?" She asked. His lips pursed, forming a straight line; he bowed his head in reluctant confirmation. "As for increasing the castle guard, I believe it would only show fear; if we show them that I am hiding then doesn't that only strengthen their resolve? I will not hide whilst these ruffians terrorise my people."

"Of course, your Majesty."

"I want more guards on the streets; my people will be _safe_. You should have come to me sooner."

"I didn't believe it to be such a pressing matter, ma'am; the first few incidents were nothing more than the rantings of a few drunken men. Unfortunately, this has progressed into organised protests and preachings. It seems they have grown steadily just recently, despite their inactivity. Last night was the first and worst of their public appearances in days. I apologise, ma'am."

"I want any and all incidents that could possibly be connected to these men to be reported to me immediately in the future. All offenders will be arrested and brought in for questioning. We need suppress this violent behaviour before it gets out of hand." She met his eyes, her lips drawn into a stern line. "And before anyone else gets hurt."

"Of course, your Majesty. I shall report any such incidents to you in the future."

"Very well. If that is all..."

"There was one more thing we wished to address your Majesty," came Eriksson's voice. He was a tall man of slim build, her elder by about twenty years with greying brunette hair and somewhat wrinkled blue eyes. "If we are all in the spirit of addressing situations before they become problematic," he continued.

"Carry on."

"As part of this most trusted council, we are all aware of the fact that you, yourself, cannot bear a child, your Majesty and shall be relying upon Princess Anna being the heir to your throne."

 _Well, that was a sharp turn_. Her brow raised. One minute they're talking about these dangerous men and the next he brings this up...

Indeed, she could not bear children. Many young girls eagerly awaited the day when their moon blood would come, signifying their transition from little girl to young lady. Unfortunately, for Arendelle's queen, that day had never come.

Her mother had tried to comfort her when, at seventeen years old, she had still yet to bleed once. She assured her that for many young women such an event was simply delayed and that her day would soon come. Elsa was never so hopeful. Despite her mother's desire to offer a shoulder to cry on, Elsa had outright refused anyone entry to her room for an entire week following her seventeenth birthday.

She had remembered feeling broken – literally; her body didn't work. And how could it? A freak of nature should surely have never been given the chance to breed – to create more obscenities like herself. Despite the fact she had never wanted a child – and held no desire to endure the activity through which one was created – there was something about coming to the realisation that she couldn't bear a child _anyway_ that hurt like a vice crushing her heart.

Perhaps it was the primal, instinctive part of her brain that told her she needed to reproduce or maybe it was just the fact that it was one more thing _she_ could not have – something that many others, unlike herself, _could_ have. Jealousy was a crude way of phrasing it; it was more like envy – deep and seething. Oh how she desired it to be someone else cursed the way she was. And then guilt would take envy's place for she could never wish this feeling of loneliness and utter uselessness on anyone else and thought herself horrific for ever having had such a thought. A vicious cycle that had continued over the years.

But now, nearing her twenty third birthday – past the years where one would expect any such experience – she had to accept the fact that such a day would never come and she would never have children of her own. Elsa blamed the ice for making her body inhospitable; surely no babe could survive the chill of her barren womb. Did she even _have_ a womb? Regardless, she had come to rely on Anna being her heir.

Every marriage proposal she had ever received was burned to a crisp. Kai would deliver them to her out of courtesy despite the fact that she had so often told him to destroy them himself. She supposed he lived in some sort of flat hope that she might read one and feel a connection with one of the tedious two dimensional characters those pompous princes portrayed themselves to be. But she could never feel anything for them; it wasn't in her nature.

And she couldn't give him anything. So, even if she did force herself to lay with a man she could never love, her womb would remain as barren and fruitless as it always had been. So, what was the point in trying? She could never have what she wanted. So, what was the point in trying? She could never be happy like that. So, what was the point trying?

"Your point being, Eriksson?" She asked, brow raised. He pursed his lips and adjusted his spectacles before continuing.

"Princess Anna realises the responsibility of becoming queen?" He asked, twitching his nose to raise his glasses. "A _Master Kristoff Bjorgman_ has recently proposed to the princess, am I correct?" Eriksson continued.

How had he even discovered that? It had been discussed between Anna and herself only a week ago. Elsa had hoped that Kristoff would propose sooner rather than later so that she could give them her blessing and there could be no argument. But now that the councillors had discovered his intentions, it would be almost impossible for them to ever be together – even despite the fact that Elsa had already given her blessing and Anna had joyously accepted.

The reason for her haste was that any children Anna and Kristoff had would not be eligible heirs of the Arendellian throne. Unless they were the only children and there was no opportunity to birth more suitable heirs.

They may hold the title of Prince or Princess of Arendelle, but they may never ascend to the position of King or Queen of Arendelle. Such was the unfortunate and rather inconvenient restriction of morganatic marriage – the cruel reality of marrying for love rather than political benefit.

"The Árnadalr bloodline will end with Princess Anna unless she marries royalty," Eriksson added, his expression anything but cruel. Elsa met his large eyes, his words smashing a hole in her chest and turning her stomach.

"I can't take that away from her. Not after everything she's been through." Elsa felt moisture gather in her eyes, throat constricting. "She deserves love."

"Ma'am, I am afraid there is no other way," Eriksson replied, his expression pained. "She must."

He felt truly empathetic toward the blonde haired woman before him. It brought him no pleasure to ask such questions or insist such things but the future of Arendelle and its royal family was in question and, as an esteemed member of the Monarch's Council, it was his responsibility to ensure that future was hopeful.

Eriksson pushed the glasses further up the bridge of his nose once more. She wanted to rip them off his face. Maybe smash them. Maybe freeze them, chill them till they shatter. She wanted to cry. She felt compelled to apologise.

"I... I will speak with Princess Anna. Thank you, Master Eriksson. Is that all?"

There were shared glances to confirm that there was indeed nothing more to be said before she dismissed them and they stood to leave.

She glared. Not at anything in particular. Her face just hardened into a bitter grimace. She was shivering. It was cold – she couldn't feel the cold. That was part of the problem – this infernal ice that seemed insistent on ruining the lives of those she loved. So, maybe she wasn't shivering from the chill that emanated from her body but perhaps the rage wracking her lithe form. Or maybe it was the execrable ice within shaking with cruel laughter at her despair.

* * *

Elsa raised her hand, brushing the pads of her fingers over the smooth wood of the door. Taking a calming breath, she gently rapped the oak with pale knuckles.

Better to do this sooner rather than later.

"Hello – who is it?" Came a quick, almost anxious, voice on the other side.

"It's Elsa. May I come in?"

"Um..." She heard a crash and a groan followed by harsh whispers. She frowned, wondering what on earth Anna might be doing.

Hearing an exclamation of pain, Elsa entered concerned as to whether Anna was all right. She raised a brow at the sight before her. Under any other circumstances, it may have been comical. If she weren't about to destroy her happiness she might have even reminded her of the consequences of being caught in such a situation.

"Kristoff?" The queen's brow hiked up at the sight of the large man fumbling to stand, his face that of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

He looked up at her from the floor with worried eyes, cradling the back of his head with his hand, flushing pink.

"Your Majesty... I-I, hello," he said, silently cursing himself for being caught in such a situation that looked far worse than it actually was – and for blushing.

"Elsa, I can explain -" Anna began, concerned that her conservative sister might think the worst of Kristoff being in her bedroom and, considering their awkwardness, she was sure Elsa knew exactly what they were doing.

"- Anna, may I speak with you." Anna frowned. Elsa glanced back to Kristoff, now standing, his cheeks still flushed pink. "Alone."

Anna felt her chest tighten. The last time Elsa had asked to speak with her 'Alone' she had refused, and things didn't go so well.

"I'll, um, I'll just be going then." Kristoff stood and made his way towards the door, slipping past Elsa silently before then shutting it behind him. He could have sworn he felt Anna glaring daggers into the back of his head as he scampered away, leaving her to face her sister's questions alone.

Once outside he breathed a sigh of relief, hopeful that Elsa wasn't too upset about finding him in the princess' bedchambers; it looked a lot worse than it actually was.

Blue eyes met teal and suddenly a torrent of words spilled from the princess' mouth.

"Elsa, nothing happened – I promise. I wouldn't – Kristoff's not – I mean we're not – we haven't done anything like that, yet." Her eyes went wide at how one might interpret that. "Not- Not that we actually plan on doing that. That's – no that's not – Kristoff's a gentleman. And I'm a lady. I wouldn't do those things."

"Anna... I – I just need to talk to you about something," Elsa began slowly, taking a nervous seat beside her sister on the edge of the bed.

She ran her palm over the sheets. Contemplating how exactly one told Anna with her gorgeous, hopeful little soul that she absolutely could not, under any circumstances marry the love of her life because she, the barren Ice Witch of Arendelle, could bear no children of her own. It seemed too harsh a truth to tell. Certainly, too cruel a fate for the girl who never gave up hope.

How was it possible that words had the potential to shatter someone like that? How was it fair?

"I need to... There's something I haven't told you. You know, as queen, I should produce an heir?" Anna nodded. Elsa took this as her cue to continue.

"Any child of mine would likely carry this burden-" She began, trying to ease into the more difficult part of the conversation.

"- Your magic?" Anna interrupted. "It's not a burden; it's beautiful."

"You know how to control it now, so what's to say they couldn't learn too? You'd be a wonderful mother, Elsa; you're loving and kind. I'm sure you would be great-"

"- I can't." She pursed her lips, fearing how Anna might react. Elsa suddenly decided she needn't drag this out longer than needs be; she should just tell Anna the truth. "That's what I'm trying to tell you..." She added, a lump growing in her throat.

Anna's brows drew together once more, utterly bemused by the sadness in her sister's voice.

"Wait... what? Can't? Can't control your magic? Of course you can; we worked it all out. Love is the answer." Anna didn't know if it were possible to get any more confused. "Kids are amazing... sure they're a little messy, clumsy, loud, energetic... But I don't – I'm... Why wouldn't you want that? You could teach them to control it. It'll be fine. Besides, kids are the best love you can get."

Elsa felt her stomach twisting, an amalgam of utterly unpleasant emotions curdling within. Guilt. Sadness. Despair. She felt sick actually. Her hands were trembling in her lap. She tried to rein in her emotions, only barely aware of the growing chill emanating from her body, rime spreading from her palm on the bed. She didn't know what was worse, Anna insisting that she have children or the dreadful news she had yet to deliver.

"I can control it – it's been getting better... And it – it isn't that I don't want children." She started, glancing back to the kind face before her. Anna was waiting, patiently. Patiently, as she always was. "I can't."

"Can't?" She noticed her eyes flicker to her stomach then back to her face. "You can't?"

"No."

"Can't..."

Anna's eyes were on her abdomen once more; she shifted slightly under the scrutiny.

"Oh..." Anna breathed, suddenly scared of saying the wrong thing. "I'm sorry." Elsa, puzzled by the sympathy, broke the eye contact. Anna lay a palm on her hand and squeezed to remind her she could talk to her. They had become quite good at that in the weeks after the Thaw. Talking.

"I'm fine." Wringing her hands, she looked back to her sister. "I actually wanted to talk about what that would mean for you."

"I'll be the queen one day?" Anna asked, replacing her palm on Elsa's fidgeting hands. Elsa nodded. "That's cool - it's fine. I can't guarantee I'll be as good as you are but I-"

"- You can't marry Kristoff." There it was. She said it. No point in delaying it any longer. If she was going to break her precious little heart better to do it sooner rather than later, right?

Anna's mouth hung open. Elsa couldn't look her in the eye. It was Anna's turn to feel sick. She hadn't considered that. It was like a punch to the stomach.

But Kristoff had just proposed last week. She was supposed to be marrying him in a few months time. How could this happen?

Kristoff was supposed to be her true love. How could she marry anyone else?

"I..." Anna began, throat constricting as unshed tears pooled in teal orbs.

"I'm so sorry. If – if there were any other way..." Anna could hear the desperation with which Elsa desired 'any other way' in the way her voice cracked.

Elsa was almost brought to tears by the younger girl's expression. Sadness. Shock. Disappointment.

Anna didn't know how to feel. She was, for once in her life, utterly speechless. Elsa reached for her hand; if Anna cared she didn't show any sign.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Elsa whispered, caressing Anna's hand with her thumb. "I'm so sorry." It seemed she really couldn't do anything right when it came to being a big sister. She really was useless.

Suddenly, she was pulled into her arms, and a gasp escaped her. Elsa frowned, carefully yet affectionately returning the gesture as she was unsure whether Anna was just too upset to be angry or if she really wanted her comfort.

Anna rested her chin silently on her sister's shoulder for what seemed like hours but was likely just a few minutes, tears trailing down her freckled face – drowning teal eyes in sadness.

Her thoughts wandered. Who might she have to marry? Some snotty prince? Older than her? Like... a lot older? A narcissist? A psycho like Hans? Whoever he was, he would surely be nothing like Kristoff; the smell of reindeer wouldn't linger on his clothes, he wouldn't pick his nose and pretend she couldn't see him, he wouldn't belch and blame it on Sven. He wouldn't make her happy like Kristoff did.

The idea of being with anyone else made her shiver, but such was her responsibility to her kingdom now.

Pulling back and meeting guilty blue eyes, she managed a twitch of her lips that looked somewhat like a smile. Their hands found each other once again, fingers entwined.

"Don't be sorry. It isn't your fault." Her eyes turned down, and she observed their hands before adding: "I suppose... I should be grateful. At least I can have children."

Elsa swallowed thickly and shook her head to deny the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"Oh, Anna... that isn't the thing that saddens me most, it's the responsibility that it forces upon you. It isn't fair." She reached forward and tucked a copper strand behind her ear. "For that, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She gave a small smile through the tears. "I'm not sure Kristoff really wanted to marry me anyway."

"You're wonderful Anna – please don't doubt that. I love you so much." A tear dribbled down her cheek; Anna reached to wipe it from her fair skin. "I'm sorry; I'm not the one that should be getting upset."

"I love you too," Anna replied, pulling her into another hug.

* * *

After what seemed like hours, they were laying next to each other, just holding each other with equally gloomy expressions. They were both battling the pull of sleep for a few more moments of the other's silent company.

Her sister, now beside her – after all their years apart – and she felt Elsa still kept too much to herself.

 _I mean, most people would know if their sister was infertile._ She thought, brows furrowing at her own ignorance. _That was something normal sisters talked about, right? Woman stuff and men and stuff, right? Right?_

It wasn't the first time Anna had to remind herself that she and Elsa were not exactly a prime example of _normal_ sisters. Their relationship was odd, much like that of long lost strangers, best acquaintances or foreign familiars.

They were sisters; they weren't friends; they loved each other; they didn't know each other and they cared for each other, though neither understood the other's strife. And it was with that realisation, that Anna vowed to erase the gap that had formed between them over the years. The gap that she had worked so hard to chip away at over the time following the Great Thaw.

Fair skin, barely-there freckles dusted across otherwise unblemished ivory cheeks and slightly down-turned lips. A few rogue strands of hair had come loose of her braid, framing her sharp face with white-blonde tresses.

Anna tried to remember a younger Elsa. She recalled a rounder face with fuller cheeks, a higher voice, someone of shorter stature. Despite her efforts, she could not recall a young Elsa that seemed genuinely happy. She was too young to remember much before the accident and any memory she did have of joyous times didn't quite seem to capture the essence of happiness. They carried an air of falseness – void of true emotion.

She supposed counterfeit, magic-induced, troll memories couldn't compare to the real thing. She would have to make her own happy memories with Elsa, and with Kristoff while she still had the chance – even if she could never marry him.

Her last conscious thought before she succumbed to the blissful haze of sleep was how she would manage to talk to Kristoff the next time she saw him. How would she make memories with him if she broke his heart? She would have to tell him. Gently. And try not to cry.

And her thoughts ended there as sleep claimed her and heavy lids fell over tired teal orbs. **  
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 **A/N: So, that's that. Let me know what you thought about it; all thoughts and feelings are welcome, guys.**

 **Absolutely MASSIVE thanks to my beta-readers Scorpiofreak and JustNeedToReview. You've been amazing and the help you've given me has been great and is massively appreciated.**

 **Hopefully, I will have more up soon; I am trying to be a more responsible writer and write a few more chapters in advance than I would usually. So, maybe you won't be waiting months for updates...**

 **Additional note - A lot of my chapter titles will be named after song titles or lyrics (not all of them though) - cookies to anyone who guess them!**

 **\- Fly :3**


	2. He Goes Left and You Stay Right

**A/N: Welcome back, guys. Thank you to everyone who has read, favourited, followed and reviewed so far; it's much appreciated and it really boosts my confidence. I'm glad to know you're enjoying it so far; hopefully that continues.**

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*{-} **He Goes Left and You Stay Right Between the Lines of Fear and Blame** {-}*

The warmth of the early morning sun was no comfort. In fact, she found it quite the opposite; it meant she had to face another day in which she was responsible for making Anna miserable. One more day to add to the many; the list grew longer.

Elsa sat at her desk, eyes skimming documents with no real desire to retain any of their information whatsoever.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as her hands came to cradle her skull, already throbbing with the stress. She had left Anna's room when dawn's light had rudely reminded her that she had duties to attend to as queen.

How she had wished she could stay with Anna and be there to comfort her when she awoke. Last night she may have put on a brave face but Elsa dreaded that Anna, in the clear mind of the early morning (more like mid-afternoon), might decide that she did blame Elsa and would suddenly feel the enormous and undesirable weight of the responsibility she had been saddled with the evening prior.

Elsa worried that, if Anna decided she did blame her and would go so far as to deny marriage proposals all together, she would be forced to order her own sister – by the power of her crown – to marry a man. She sincerely wished it wouldn't come to that because, if it did, she was certainly unsure of whether she could order the sweet princess to either give up her freedom or stand accused of treason.

Oh, how she wished she could have just been blessed with a fruitful womb so that she might save herself and her sister all this anguish. She would have forced herself to do it – had she only been able.

If there was no heir then their family would be dead upon their passing – the Árnadalr bloodline lost to the ages – becoming a mere memory of the many Arendellian monarchs that had come before her. Including her father.

And then Arendelle would be in chaos; a war would ensue as nobles bellowed and brawled for their claim to the throne.

Vultures – animals freed from their cages, climbing and clambering over one another in their pathetic ploy for power.

Elsa had always assumed that, as soon as she was able, Anna would marry a fair and handsome prince and live her happily ever after, without Elsa. She would have children, many beautiful fair-haired and fun-loving children. Anna would be her successor as Elsa would obviously have never wed nor have had any children of her own and then Anna's child would follow.

Elsa had been so sure that this was Anna's happy ending but then... _somehow_ it all went a bit pear-shaped and they were back together again and they were happy and Anna was courting a man with shaggy blond hair who smelt vaguely of reindeer manure and carrots.

But that could not be Anna's happy ending. Unfortunately, the rest of the princess' life would be as full of dream and longing as her childhood as her 'prince' was not a prince but a common ice harvester and her kingdom and sister relied far too much on a child of hers – pure of blood.

Elsa hung her head as the throbbing in her skull persisted. She knew that Anna was not doing this willingly at all. Anna had no choice and she knew it. She knew she would be condemned to a loveless marriage despite her desire for True Love. And Elsa hated that she was – once again – the cause of her sisters' misery.

There was a knock at her door, short and polite, ripping her from her depressing thoughts. She called for them to come in. She wasn't expecting anyone and, given the hour, it wasn't likely to be anything majorly important or requiring her immediate attention.

"Good morning, your Majesty." Came Gerda's cheery voice, Elsa could practically hear the smile on her face.

"To you too, Gerda." She replied, focusing her gaze on the papers before her.

"How are you this fine morning, ma'am?" the elder lady asked, hands clasped at her front. Elsa offered a brief glance up at the handmaid.

"Fine, thank you." She looked back down at the document before her, a trade embargo of some sort, though she found it almost impossible to concentrate on the words scrawled across the page.

She looked back up once more, catching the handmaiden's concerned eye.

"Was there something you needed, Gerda, it's just I'm rather busy at the moment..." Elsa gestured to the documents on her desk – evidence of her 'busy' morning. They _could_ be addressed later but she felt the need to bury herself in her work.

Gerda's brows furrowed, sensing hostility in her queen's words.

"I came to ask if would like me to bring you breakfast, ma'am, seeing as you are so busy this morning," the handmaid replied.

"Thank you, Gerda, but I'll wait for Anna," Elsa said in vain hope that the elder woman would leave her to brood. Gerda's brow twitched. "I have a lot of work to do, anyhow," she added, hopeful that the handmaid might sense her desire to be alone.

"Ma'am, you know the princess will not rise for another hour or so."

"The more time I have to read through these," Elsa replied stubbornly, gesturing to the papers once more.

A soft sigh escaped the elder woman. As obvious as it was something was bothering her, Gerda knew Elsa was not quick to share her struggles with others.

But Gerda had convinced the young blonde to talk many a time. It just took a little persistence.

"Is there something wrong, ma'am?"

"Gerda..." Came a slightly harsher voice. A little persistence and a bit of patience.

"Ma'am, I may not be of much use when it comes to affairs of the crown-"

"- So why pry, Gerda?" A _lot_ of patience.

"You know I only mean to hel-"

"- You can't help -"

"- not if you keep interrupting me, I can't."

The queen's head snapped to the side so quickly it was a miracle she didn't snap her own neck. Her braid whipped over her shoulder and blue eyes bore into Gerda's, quirked brow evidence of her annoyance.

Gerda held her gaze, ignoring the dip in temperature that came with Her Majesty's spike in temper.

"You know, if you were anyone else, you would be out of a job," Elsa mumbled, holding her eyes a little longer before turning back to the papers with a sour face. The room, though still cooler than it had been, began to warm once more.

Gerda took that as permission to continue.

"If I were anyone else, I wouldn't know you well enough to be able to take the risk," She said, reminding Elsa that Gerda probably knew her better than she did herself.

In the years she had spent in isolation, both Kai and Gerda had tried to talk to the princess. The briefest of conversations sparked from polite greetings, though they rarely consisted of more than simple pleasantries and perhaps a few details about their day. After that Elsa would always insist they leave, claiming that they shouldn't feel obliged to talk to her as it meant putting their lives at risk.

Elsa would claim it had been a bad day and that her control was unsteady at best. But Gerda knew that with persistence and patience, Elsa would eventually begin to trust herself and maintain longer conversations with the handmaid. And she had been right, resulting in Gerda becoming something of a confidant to the growing young woman.  
After a moment of silence, Elsa relented. She turned back to Gerda with a sigh and met her eyes once more.

"You know that I can't have – I can't produce an heir..." She took Gerda's silence as prompt to continue.

"I was always so sure that Anna would marry a prince. Mother and Father never made any arrangements for her betrothal. I wanted her to be free to marry whichever prince she wished, so I made none either."

Gerda listened like a mother concerned for her child. She made no attempt to comment or interrupt.

"Anna must marry a prince," Elsa said, the words forced from her mouth as though they were a death sentence rather than a mere statement.

Gerda had been in service to the crown long enough to understand the general rules and whatnot when it came to marriage. Particularly in Arendelle, offspring had to be of pure blood in order to be eligible to inherit the throne.

The handmaid's face fell. She had not, like Elsa, ever considered that Anna would fall in love with a working man rather than a royal; it was the girl's childhood fantasy, after all, to be swept off her feet by a handsome prince.

"What of Master Kristoff, ma'am?" Gerda asked, certain she already knew her answer. Elsa glanced away, guilt rising in her throat.

"It cannot be. It simply wouldn't be allowed; law would prevent any of their children taking the crown." Elsa answered sadly. "I had tried to encourage them to be engaged before the council could raise the issue but, even with my blessing and Anna's acceptance, they have refused." The elder woman could tell those words hurt to say and she wanted nothing more than to pull Elsa into her arms – but that would be improper.

"I see." Gerda stepped closer to the queen, resting a hand next to hers on the oak desk. "It isn't your fault. Please don't blame yourself."

"I spoke to her and she didn't seem... she wasn't even angry." Elsa lifted her head, meeting the handmaid's warm grey eyes. "She doesn't blame me."

"Do you think she should?" Gerda asked, curious as to why Anna's acceptance bothered Elsa so.

"I feel I've already taken so much from her, Gerda – it isn't fair."

"Perhaps not." She took a breath, searching for the appropriate words, not wanting to encourage the girl's guilt. "This world has taken so much from you both. At least this time you can be there for one another."

Raising a hand to her temple, Elsa broke Gerda's gaze as she felt the tell-tale pinprick of tears beginning to form.

"What if she hates me?" Elsa said, throat constricting around the words, as though she wished to strangle them and squash them, forcing them to be untrue.

"She could never; she adores you." The handmaid replied, wanting to pull the younger woman into her arms more than anything at that moment.

There was another knock at her door. This one was more distinctive; the rhythm in the rapping revealed the identity of her latest unexpected visitor.

"Come in, Anna," Elsa called, a frown forming as she struggled to comprehend how she and Gerda had been talking for so long. It could have been a considerable amount of time or Anna could just have woken uncharacteristically early.

The princess bounded into the room, study door slamming shut behind her. Elsa cringed and Anna's shoulders raised to her ears as she muttered out an apology.

"Hi, Elsa," She chirped, a smile swelling her freckled cheeks. "Good morning, Gerda."

"Good morning, your Highness," Gerda gave a curtsy, pleasantly surprised to see the princess up before noon.

"I need to talk to you..." Anna took her lip between her teeth and brushed a hair behind her ear, daring an awkward glance into her sisters ice blue eyes. "Last night, I didn't really get to ask you anything... I just – I need to talk to you." The queen's eyes widened, the worries in the back of her mind worming their way forwards.

"Ma'am, forgive my interruption, but wouldn't you rather eat first," Gerda asked. "Surely, whatever it is will seem less daunting after breakfast."

"Actually, it's real-"

"- You should eat. If you want, we can talk later."

"But I need to talk to you now," Anna protested, eager to speak with Elsa about their conversation from the night before. "It's really important."

"And I'm not going anywhere, I will still be here when you get back." Anna frowned, sure that Elsa was just avoiding her questions.

"Why don't I bring something to you?" Gerda suggested, sensing the princess' apprehension. She cast the queen a smile.

"Yes please, Gerda," Anna said with a small smile. "Thank you."

"Yes. Thank you, Gerda," Elsa echoed, catching the way the handmaid's mouth turned up slightly.

* * *

Anna had been fidgeting with the teacup for about five minutes but Elsa didn't want to rush her.

"So I-I was thinking about what we talked about last night..." Anna began, cradling the cup in her palms. Elsa nodded, waiting. "How do I... What about Kristoff? How do I talk to him, Elsa?"

Elsa hesitated, eyes wide. How on Earth was she supposed to know? She had never been in a relationship. She didn't know how these things _worked_! Not relationships. Not romance. Not break-ups. She didn't understand _any_ of it. In truth, she didn't understand men. Not at all.

She opened her mouth to speak, closing it again, trying to decide how she was going to do this.

How did you break bad news to anyone?

"Be honest with him," She replied, fighting the urge to wring her hands and twist her fingers like a guilty child. "From what I've observed, he's a good man. Surely he'll understand." She gulped anxiously, aware that a younger sister asking her older sister for break-up advice was probably normal. One more thing she was no use for.

"But what if he doesn't? What do I do if he-" The princess began frantically, tapping her nails at the cup in her palm.

"- I won't pretend to know what I'm talking about; I don't know Kristoff like you do. I don't know that kind of love. I won't lie to you... Kristoff probably won't be too pleased but he'll be even more upset to hear it from anyone but yourself."

"Is that just the nice way of saying 'Just man up and tell him for God sakes.'?"

"I could come with you if you think it'll help but I... I don't think he'd take too well to me telling him myself."

"Can I tell him about your... you know..." The princess asked, gesturing vaguely at her own abdomen.

"That would probably help him make sense of things; if he knows, he'll see how important it is but it's up to you. Tell him whatever you think is best as I've clearly no such experience with men."

Anna stood abruptly, placing the teacup not-so-delicately on the desk.

"No, you're right. I should just... tell him. Kristoff's – he'll get it. I need to – I just need to tell him," she declared.

Elsa stood too as Anna stepped closer and pulled the taller woman into her arms.

"I'm sorry, Anna." Was all she could say, a guilty whisper, uttered into strawberry-blonde braids.

Anna just held her tighter.

* * *

Kristoff was in the stables, preparing Sven for their next trip into the mountains tomorrow; he had kept pushing it back in favour of staying at the castle with Anna a little longer. He absolutely adored her and, though they had not been together long, he felt they both knew each other well enough to move forward with their relationship. So last week – with the queen's blessing – he had proposed.

Elsa had been so supportive – encouraging him even. She had asked him if he was sure that he and Anna were ready to take such a decisive step in their relationship. Sure that they were, he had assured her that he would take care of Anna and had no ill intentions.

He had gotten to know Elsa over the months following the Great Thaw and he thought their relationship was one of mutual respect, if a little awkward at first. But their mutual concern for Anna's well-being had brought them closer than even their shared admiration of ice ever could.

A smile twitched at his lips at the thought of the bouncy redhead that had literally barged into his life. But he couldn't imagine his life without her in it. She wasn't perfect; she was loud and clumsy but Kristoff couldn't help but find her verbal and physical blunders absolutely adorable.

And speak of the devil – here she came – walking toward him with a somewhat neutral expression on her face.

That was odd. Anna was never neutral. She didn't do 'normal'; she was supposed to be bouncing and bounding toward him with a mischievous little grin on her face.

Sven huffed beside him at the sight and he lay a hand on the reindeer's snout.

Stood before him, he grinned at the princess.

"Hey, Kris..." She greeted him, her tone implying there was more to say.

"Hey, I was just getting Sven ready. We're gonna have to get back to the mountains for a little while."

"That's nice..." Came a distant reply. The mountain man had been adjusting Sven's reins but whipped around, a frown marring his usually handsome features; Anna often complained that he spent too much time in the mountains. She joked that he spent more time looking at his reflection in the ice than she did in her vanity mirror.

"Nice? No comments? No ice jokes?" He pulled the strap securing the harness to Sven's body and the reindeer nickered in response. "Is something wrong?" He added, seeing the disappointment in her eyes.

"Everything's wrong..." The princess grumbled and Kristoff was tempted to pinch her cheeks at the sight of the adorable pout that settled on her lips but decided against it as she seemed genuinely troubled.

"Come on, it's not that bad; I'll be back in a couple weeks – two maybe three – and then I'm all yours again."

Suddenly, small yet surprisingly strong arms surrounded him and Anna's cheek was laid across his torso. Wrapping his arms around her slight form, he gave a cautious frown. He was about to speak before a stifled sob caught his ear.

"Kristoff... I'm sorry – sorry... I'm sorry." Anna cried, trails of sorrow dribbled down her face and had anyone else been around she might have cared but Kristoff accepted every part of her, even the messy crier part.

"Hey – hey calm down. What's the matter? What's got you so upset?" He asked, concern filling his chocolate eyes. Anna looked up, hers the colour of a troubled sea.

"I-I can't see you anymore, Kristoff." She managed before another sniffle cut her off. "We can't get married."

The young man paused his actions, his mouth hung open slightly and his thick brows twitched together.

"Wait, what? What – what d'you mean?" He asked, his expression that of a lost puppy; he had been absolutely ecstatic when Anna had accepted his proposal. Why was it all going wrong now?

Anna pulled out of his embrace abruptly and held her hands behind her back – the image of a guilty child.

"Why, Anna? Who said so?" The scorned boy demanded, taking a step closer to the princess.

Anna shook her head, a tear dripping onto the barn floor – Sven promptly licked it.

"It's nobody's fault, Kris. It's just-"

"- Just who? Obviously, it's not your decision." He said, folding large arms over his chest. "Anna, I just wanna know why... please..."

"Elsa-"

"-Elsa?!" His face contorted into one of anger and suddenly he wasn't feeling so gentle and comforting. "She doesn't want us together? But Elsa was the one that – am I suddenly not good enough for her or something?!"

"Kristoff, you don't understand-"

"- No, I don't. Tell me why Elsa gets to make these decisions for you. She doesn't get to _choose_ for you." Annoyance grew on the princess' face.

"First of all, stop interrupting me; I'm trying to tell you why and second – don't talk about Elsa that way because this isn't her fault either. She doesn't want this any more than you or I do."

"So, what's her problem!?" He asked, his deep tenor carrying across the courtyard.

The guards by the gate noticed the way he approached the princess and readied themselves to take action; judging by his volume and threatening posture they believed they might have reason to fear for her safety. Their distance from them prevented them from being privy to the subject of their conversation, but they could surely tell it was a heated one.

Anna glared up at the blond towering over her with a frown on his face. Sure, she was upset but to hear Kristoff claim Elsa was trying to control her life and to not even let her explain, aroused her ire.

"Why do you assume it's Elsa that has the problem?" She growled back.

"Because you said she – that she doesn't want us to be together-"

"- I said no such thing! Elsa wants that more than anything but she has no choice."

"She's the queen! Of course she has a choice!" The mountain man bellowed, his cheeks stained red, angry tears welling in his eyes.

"You assume that because she's the queen that the rules don't apply to her," Anna said, narrowing her eyes.

"Don't they – can't she _change_ the rules?! Isn't that the whole _point_ of being queen?" He rebuffed, brow cocked questioningly. Anna sighed and raised a hand to the bridge of her nose.

"It doesn't work like that; she needs the approval of the council and – and it's just not that simple."

"But what rules? Where does it actually say that you and I can't be together? I know royalty can marry commoners – it's happened _so_ many times in other kingdoms, so don't tell me that's why!"

The guards were anxious to assist the princess. One of them made to confront the mountain man but the other, taller and his elder by a few years, held a hand to his chest and whispered something about waiting and how the princess had once punched a grown man clean off the side of a boat. The young guard's eyes widened in surprise.

"Well, since you seem to know so much about royalty, why don't you tell me what happens to the children of those marriages? Do you know, Kristoff?" Anna asked, wishing the mountain man would see the fault in his logic.

Kristoff paused for a moment, thinking. He didn't know. What horrid fate awaited the children of such marriages that he was so unaware of? When he made no attempt to answer Anna continued.

"They can't ascend to the throne." She stated as if that one sentence solved all their problems. It didn't. Another frown grew on his face. What did that have to do with anything?

"So! They don't need to – why is that even important, Anna?!" He growled, his patience on the brink of breaking.

"They need to be eligible for the throne in order to become king or queen one day," Anna replied angrily, fists balled at her sides, nails leaving crescents in her palms.

Kristoff's face screwed up into perhaps one of the most unattractive expressions she had ever seen upon his face. It was confusion mixed with vague disgust and anger.

"What's wrong with Elsa's kids being king or queen?!" Kristoff yelled, finally at the end of his tether.

"Elsa can't have kids!" Anna shouted in harsh reply. Kristoff's face immediately dropped and he felt a weight thud in his stomach.

The guards saw Kristoff had given up his threatening stance and was now standing rather awkwardly before the princess, mouth hung open.

Kristoff felt Sven nudge at his elbow as if to say: _Well say something, you idiot._

"So, that's it?" He asked, rather more pathetically than he had hoped to sound. Anna glanced away, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

"Yes, Kristoff. I'm sorry." Anna said, her voice almost monotone in order to keep herself from crying again.

"But-"

"- I have a duty to my people, Kristoff. I can't let my family name die. It would cause chaos – war."

"So, we can't-" He began softly. Anna swallowed the hard lump in her throat and shook her head, no longer trusting the words in her mouth to come out as she wished.

Kristoff sighed, deflated like all the air had just been punched out of him. He sniffed and wiped his eye with his fist.

"Then I... I-I'll see you when I get back." He said, taking hold of Sven's reins. He tugged and the reindeer frowned, resisting he tug of his harness. "Come on, Sven," Kristoff growled. Sven gave a submissive grunt and followed, casting the princess what could only be described as a sad look as he passed.

Anna watched as Kristoff led Sven toward the gate, the reindeer glancing back forlornly. She couldn't see the tears that had gathered in the mountain man's eyes and he couldn't see the way her lip quivered as he stalked further and further away.

* * *

" _Where are we going?_ "

"I don't know, Sven." He kicked a twig and watched it sail about ten feet in front of him.

" _I don't like it when you and Anna fight._ "

"Well, cheer up 'cause it looks like that'll be the last of 'em." He replied bitterly, the princess' words still thundering through his mind. He never did believe in True Love and all those soft, mushy feelings. The idea that there was 'someone for everyone' just didn't seem true, how could _everyone_ be happy? In an ideal world, yes but certainly not in the world he lived in – the real world.

He had started to believe it though; he had thought Anna was his 'someone'. But clearly not if there was nothing he could do to keep them together. He stamped on the twig he had kicked – angrily snapping it beneath his tough boot.

He wasn't noble. That's all it came down to. If he were some fancy-pants, know-it-all prick with lots of money then it would all be fine. But he wasn't. He was Kristoff: a mountain man with a reindeer and the clothes on his back – maybe a couple of copper pieces in his pocket. But that was it.

Sven nickered at his side and Kristoff reached to scratch between his antlers. Sven would never leave him. And, despite his admiration for the princess, he had always told himself – had always known deep inside – that she would leave him; he simply wasn't good enough for royalty. And there was nothing he could do about it.

"Well, maybe _you_ can't do anything..."

Kristoff glanced questioningly at Sven. The reindeer seemed to be mocking him for having not thought of them sooner.

"Don't look so smug."

* * *

Wrapped up in Elsa's arms, Anna continued to sob.

One arm around her body and the other stroking the copper head that cried onto her torso.

They didn't talk. Anna just let herself be held, listening to the soothing beat of her sister's heart.

It was late. Anna had been in the library for the past three hours, crying. A fire had been made up about two hours ago but had long since burnt out. Anna didn't care; Elsa's warmth was enough.

At least, that's what she told herself. This muted heat that radiated from her sister's body would be enough – enough to pull her through the sadness. It wouldn't be and she knew it. That's what made it so awful.

She glanced up at Elsa who reached to wipe the tears from her freckle-dusted cheeks.

"He's gone." Anna managed. "Really gone..." Elsa pulled her closer, burying her nose in strawberry-blonde locks in order to stop herself from spewing a thousand more apologies that meant nothing; she could change nothing. "He took Sven and he said he'd see me later. But – but I don't think he's coming back." The princess added, through her tears, pulling Elsa's hand to her chest. Elsa pressed a gentle kiss to her temple and ran her thumb over the back of her hand.

The sad snowflakes that fluttered pitifully around them only served to show the queen's guilt.

Elsa was quite sure that's where silence was re-established and Anna drifted into sleep on her tear-stained chest and how she ended up an hour later with a crick in her neck and a dead leg, slowly drifting in and out of sleep herself.

* * *

Kristoff raced on Sven's back. They would know what to do. Surely, there was some magical cure for infertility... He knew if only he could find something to help Elsa then he and Anna could be together and they wouldn't have to worry about Anna having 'royal children' that were eligible for the throne. And, if there were anywhere to find such a thing, it would be here.

He was going to be the one to fix things. It would all be fine and they could all live their happy lives if he found some way to fix Elsa's problem. He let a smile form on his lips as hope blossomed in his chest at the idea of being able to be with Anna again.

What Kristoff didn't know was that, through his 'noble' quest to cure the queen's infertility, he was opening them all up to entirely different challenges, not just for them but for many others as well. These challenges would prove to be... well... challenging. They would cause them to question themselves and others, bringing uncertainty, lies and truth, love and loss and a little bit of chaos – just for good measure.

In his effort to retain his happiness he would unwittingly cost others theirs'.

He didn't know why fate had chosen to put him in this position but Kristoff knew he was going to try his damnest to change it.

The thing is... sometimes fate doesn't like to be changed and it may have been better to leave well enough alone...

* * *

 **A/N: Oh no, Kristoff! What are you doing? Can anyone guess where he's heading? Who could fix a problem like this – any ideas? The end of this chapter sounds quite foreboding – any ideas what might result of curing Elsa's infertility? Or, if it can even be done? I can assure you, you wont be expecting it. Let me know what you think, fave, follow, review.**

 **Many thanks to my betas Scorpiofreak and JustNeedToReview.**

 **\- Fly :P**


	3. You've Had Too Much to Think

**A/N: Welcome back. The title of this song is a line from a song by the Raconteurs, "Steady as She Goes". It's a favourite of mine and I just thought it was a really fitting title, all things considered.**

 **I don't own Frozen**

* * *

*{-} **You've Had Too Much to Think, Now You Need a Wife** {-}*

Only two days later, Kristoff came racing back to Arendelle with a smile like a valley on his lips and the wind crashing through his shaggy hair.

He needed to talk to Anna – no Elsa. He needed to talk to Elsa – give her his great news. He had _great_ news.

He shouted encouragement to Sven, hoping to make it back to the castle before the afternoon. Anna was going to be so pleased. He could barely keep himself from grinning. Euphoria danced in his heart and bubbles of excitement fizzed and popped in his stomach. This was going to fix everything.

* * *

Anna wandered the gardens alone. She gave a sigh and crouched before the little ducklings at the pond's edge. She reached out and stroked a single finger down one's feathers, appreciating the way he nuzzled into her palm.

She was so bored. So absolutely and inconceivably _bored_. She had tried so many things to distract herself from the large Kristoff shaped hole in her life these past two days. She was failing spectacularly.

She was so bored...

She had tried sitting in Elsa's study with her, but she found herself just as bored watching Elsa sign papers as she would be watching paint dry. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy spending time with her sister. It was more that, when she was working, she didn't have much of a chance to talk or do anything other than reading the hundreds of letters and trade embargoes and proposals and – oh goodness, being queen even _looked_ exhausting!

It was so boring.

She had tried hanging out with Olaf but, good god, he was annoying, especially when all Anna wanted to do was someone to moan to about how tragic her life was, and how Kristoff was a jerk for running off and how she really wished she had known about Elsa before she went and fell in love with him.

But Olaf was... well, he was just too goddamn optimistic. He was sure that everything would work out and Kristoff would come back and that both she and Elsa would live their happily-ever-after – oh dear, he was _too much_ for her depressed brain and she could not cope with his toothy grin or his impulsive need to sing a song about everything they passed-by in the hallways.

Soooooo bored...

She had tried reading in the library, despite having already ready pretty much every single book in the castle over the years. The books just upset her; she wanted to read stories with happy endings to make her feel happy, but they all ended with princes and princesses riding off into the sunset or getting married and leading amazing, fantastically fulfilled lives together – it was ever so depressing.

She was still bored.

* * *

So, on the brink of either tears or snowman murder, Anna had decided she had best get outside and breathe some fresh air to calm her.

That brought her to the ducklings in the pond in her favourite of the castle gardens. She sighed and stood from her position beside the pond; the ducklings were nowhere to be seen and it seemed today was just meant to be a boring day – and every single day from today.

Anna liked to consider herself a strong, independent woman – that's right – woman; she was nineteen years of age now. She was an adult, capable of looking out for herself and entertaining herself. She didn't need anyone else. She didn't need Kristoff who – despite being her elder by three years – had been the one of them to go off and sulk about all this drama like a child.

And, though she wanted to be angry with him, she couldn't; she was angry with herself. Anna didn't want to pine after him like some pathetic adolescent damsel in distress, but she did. And it hurt. She was angry with herself for becoming reliant on him because his absence made her hurt like she was right now, and she was frustrated for having become so dependent on the presence of another person. She had managed thirteen years pretty much on her own so why did she feel the need to become so attached to a smelly ice harvester that picked his nose and ate carrots and spoke to and for reindeer?

She loved him so much. So much that she swore she could hear him calling her name right now. Anna! Anna! Anna, where are you?! Wait- _what_? That was real – it was _really_ Kristoff and he was looking for her!

Immediately, she took off in the direction of his voice. She ran with wide eyes and a spark of hope igniting in her chest even though she knew they were over and there was no going back.

Anna ran, his voice grew closer. There! Running across the courtyard, she saw him racing toward her with a grin splitting his face.

Suddenly, he scooped her up in his arms and spun her around, taking her completely by surprise. As he lowered her back to the ground she stared up at him with a slightly sceptical expression, wondering what had caused this sudden change in demeanour.

"Kristoff what's-"

"-Anna, I have _amazing_ news!" He said excitedly, taking her hands in his.

Anna frowned and removed her hands from his grip. For some reason, he was acting as though she hadn't just broken his heart two days ago. What on Earth was going on?

"What do you mean?" She asked, confusion evident on her face. Kristoff continued to grin, his eyes blazing with euphoria.

"I can fix it!" He replied. Anna's frown deepened, shaking her head.

"Fix... fix what – What can you fix?"

"This – us – Elsa – all of it! It's all gonna be okay; the trolls can fix it!" He rejoiced as though he had solved the world's problems. The princess was still confused, quirked brow evidence of her puzzlement. He grabbed her hand once more, tugging her in the direction of the castle entrance. "Where's Elsa?" He asked.

"In her study but how-" Anna began to protest; she was just dragged closer to the castle, confusion still tainting her expression.

"- I'll explain when we get there," Kristoff called over his shoulder.

* * *

Elsa had been lumbered with a rather large pile of papers just after noon and, having briefly glanced at them, she saw they were all marriage proposals. Only this time, it wasn't hordes of princes and kings requesting her or Anna's hand in marriage, they had been written up on Anna's behalf and awaited her signature before they would be sent to the many eligible men of the world in hopes that they may be able to strike a profitable deal with Arendelle. Elsa cringed at the idea of sending them; it was like she was advertising her little sister like meat at a market or some prize to be won by the highest bidder.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps thundering down the hall outside her door and, as she stood to investigate, the door of her study flung open and Anna and Kristoff breathlessly tumbled through. Elsa's eyes widened at the sight before her – both lay in a tangled mess of limbs on the floor. Papers flew off her desk at the sudden draft, a slight annoyance evident on her face.

"What on earth are you two doing?" She asked as they lifted themselves up, pain forgotten and excitement and confusion returning to Kristoff and Anna's eyes respectively.

"Your Majesty... I have- I have great... news." Kristoff managed, dipping into an awkward bow, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

She raised a brow expectantly, looking between the two of them.

Kristoff straightened up before her, unable to suppress the smile on his lips.

"I think I may have found a way to fix our problem." He announced, his joyous smile growing.

"Our problem?" She questioned. Kristoff cleared his throat and broke her gaze. He gestured awkwardly toward the queen.

"Well, Anna – Anna told me that you... you know, that you couldn't-"

"Master Bjorgman, are you implying you've found a way in which I might bear a child?" She interrupted him, a sudden excitement in her voice. Anna's eyes lit up behind him and a smile grew on her lips as she reached to join their hands. Kristoff smiled a toothy grin and nodded.

"Yes! Yes, the trolls – my family – they said they have something that may work; I came back as fast as I could." He explained, a sense of accomplishment filling his chest – pride in the fact that he had been the one to find this solution (technically, it was the trolls, but they were his family so he had found it by association).

Elsa's mouth hung open and her eyes went wide and for a moment she didn't care; being the perfect picture of a stoic queen didn't matter at this moment because Kristoff's news meant she didn't have to send off all those horrid marriage proposals and Anna could be happy with Kristoff and right now she couldn't find it in herself to care about anything else!

"Wow, Kris, that's amazing! That means I don't have to marry a prince right – Kristoff and I can still be together?" Anna asked, half directed at Kristoff and half at Elsa, eyes flickering excitedly between the two with a smile growing on her face.

"Yes. If – if this works then everything can go back to the way it was." Elsa said, relieved that Anna could live her happily-ever-after.

Elsa noted the way they had already intertwined their hands, holding one another tight with hopeful smiles on their faces.

"How soon could we visit your family, Kristoff?" Elsa asked. Kristoff grinned at her and she felt guilty for this whole situation despite her innocence.

"We can go now. I can hook Sven up to the sled and we could be there in an hour or so." He replied eagerly.

"Good; I would like to speak with them as soon as possible."

"Come on," Anna encouraged him, tugging him toward the door. He gave another bow, just as awkward as the first, to Elsa and a friendly smile.

"Actually, might I speak with you for a moment, Kristoff?" Kristoff's raised brow was quickly hidden as he nodded, letting go of Anna's hand.

Anna gave them both a smile before stepping out and pulling the door shut behind her.

Kristoff felt nauseous; a million thoughts ran through his head – all reasons why he might have landed himself in trouble. He looked intently at the queen as she seemed to be trying to perfect what she was going to say in her head.

"Have I done something wrong – have I overstepped?" He asked, suddenly aware that perhaps she didn't realise he knew of her situation. Elsa's eyes snapped to his and, in those eyes, he saw thanks and concern.

"No, you were perfectly within your rights. I don't condemn your actions," she replied, concerned that Kristoff might see her as ungrateful for his, possibly life-changing, discovery.

"Oh, it's just – well, I thought you might be angry..." The mountain man replied, seeming so small in front of the queen, despite the fact he had at least five inches on her in height. Another frown formed on her face though this one seemed incredulous, comical even.

"Angry? Why would I be angry?" She asked, confused. Kristoff opened his mouth to talk then closed it again – not exactly sure how to one spoke to the queen about her... well you know...

"I – I um, because I know about your –" he gestured vaguely at his own abdomen. " – and I didn't think you would appreciate me finding out; I – I thought you might be mad."

"Kristoff, I stopped being mad about that a long time ago and people would have found out eventually when I could produce no heir," Kristoff noted the way she folded her arms across herself – her body language telling him the opposite to her mouth. It was clear that – deep down – some part of Elsa was still rather upset about the whole thing. And he couldn't blame her really; it must have been quite difficult to deal with.

"So, you aren't upset that Anna told me?" He asked, somewhat surprised by her composure despite her displeasure.

"No. I am actually glad that she spoke to you about it. She requested my permission and I thought that if you knew why then things wouldn't be so... that you might not have been too distressed with her." Kristoff nodded his head silently.

"Was there something else you wanted to talk about then?"

He noted the way she took a breath and straightened her posture – shoulders back and chin raised, seeming somewhat nervous, even in her façade of confidence. He twitched a brow. Why would she be nervous addressing him? She had more power in her little finger than he had in his entire body; if anyone should be nervous it should be him.

"Thank you. I know that what you did was not for my benefit at all, but I would like to thank you all the same." His tense shoulders relaxed hearing the sadness with which she spoke those words. He gave another friendly smile.

At this point, he saw how happy she really was at this potentially life-changing discovery.

"Of course, Elsa."

"And I know that I'm not the only one that your discovery brings joy to," Elsa began, glancing at the door. "You and Anna will be extremely pleased, I should assume?"

"Yes, very." He bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you."

She offered her hand to him and almost laughed again when he seemed utterly perplexed by it, as though he was wondering what he was supposed to do with it.

He paused a moment and stared at the pale palm outstretched toward him.

 _Does she want to shake my hand? No, you dolt! You don't shake the queen's hand!_

Was he supposed to kiss it? He knew that happened a lot in royal courts. After a moment Elsa reached forward a shook his hand gently,. He flushed pink at his own hesitation, eyes apologetic.

A look of mutual appreciation was shared. Perhaps a friendship had begun to blossom between himself and Elsa since the Thaw; their shared desire to give Anna the world and affinity for ice had certainly proved to form a lasting bond. They had already grown quite close and he truly believed they could be invaluable allies to one another.

Despite the arduous first weeks after The Thaw, Kristoff and Elsa eventually grew on each other – their friendship blooming once each had realised that the other was not a threat to their shared favourite person in the world.

* * *

Anna noticed Elsa had been practically silent the entire journey there and she took her hand in her own, pulling her sister aside as Kristoff attempted to wake the rocks laying on the ground.

"Are you alright?" Anna asked, brows furrowed in concern. Elsa nodded, though the worry in her eyes betrayed her. "Tell me..."

"We – I mean I – haven't been here for years. It just isn't one of the places I had ever hoped to visit again." Elsa replied glancing around at the many boulders that littered the ground, knowing they were the creatures they sought after. She felt Anna's fingers intertwine with her own and met her sister's eyes with a careful smile.

"It's okay; I'm right here for you," Anna said, smiling cheerfully.

There was a sudden rumbling as the rocks began to shake and come to life. Anna watched her sister's eyes widen and grip on her hand tighten as they tumbled forwards, friendly faces greeting them.

Elsa didn't recognise any of them; she had been so young the last time she was here and in such a state of panic that wasn't even sure she would have known where they were if not for the fact Anna kept reminding her that the "trolls" were "really friendly".

There was one she did recognise though, an older one, seemingly the wisest and most respected of them all. She remembered him; he had spoken to her that night. Her brows twitched as he rolled closer to them. It hadn't even crossed her mind that she might encounter the same one a before and, despite her desire to fix all of this, anger sparked in her chest.

"Your Majesty, such a pleasure to see you again." The elder troll said, looking up at her with a welcoming smile. "It has been a while, hasn't it?" Her frown only deepened.

"Grand Pabbie doesn't bite." Anna chuckled, urging her sister to reply to the old troll. She only shook her head.

"You were the one that spoke to my father." She said, tone accusatory. Then it was Anna's turn to frown.

"Your Majesty, I apologise that our last meeting was less than pleasant, but I must argue that I had no ill intentions that night; I merely wished to offer your father advice. It was never suggested that you be isolated." Grand Pabbie replied, his expression turned regretful.

"And yet I was. And everything that has happened since could have been avoided if you had spoken plainly that night." Elsa growled. Anna felt Elsa's hand growing cold in hers and she placed a hand on her arm, hoping to calm her.

"I gave advice, your Majesty. I could not predict your future and how your father chose to act upon my words were, unfortunately, out of my control." Grand Pabbie explained, sympathy in his words.

"Elsa, please... They just want to help. We can't change the past so, please just... Let's see what they say. Maybe, we can change the future for the better." Anna pleaded, grip tightening on Elsa's arm, wide eyes imploring. By now, she knew the story of what happened that night and she and Elsa had spoken about how the trolls had saved her and then revealed the dangers of Elsa's power.

Kristoff had come to stand beside the elder troll and was glancing nervously between it and Elsa, seeming ready to defend the troll should he need to.

Elsa met Kristoff's eyes then Anna's before turning her gaze back to Grand Pabbie. She struggled for a moment between anger and desperation. Knowing she needed the troll's help and knowing that she would find no such aid anywhere else in the world, she knew she need to accept their aid. She knew Anna needed her to do this. But at the same time, she felt anger bubbling in her stomach at how his help had hurt them before. It scared her; she didn't want the repercussions of their aid to affect their lives as it had before.

Trust was something the young queen did not give freely. After years of having to rely on her own ability to control herself she had learnt not to even trust herself when it came to certain things. And if one could not trust themselves, then how hard it must be for them to be able to trust others

"I understand your frustrations, your Majesty, and I am sorry that I couldn't have done more to help you and your family. But Kristoff tells me that we might be of assistance to you now and I will offer everything I can, if it means aiding you," Grand Pabbie said, voice interrupting her train of thought. She reluctantly met the troll's eyes.

"I assume you already know why we are here then?" Elsa asked, tone softer than it had been previously.

"Indeed, I do." Grand Pabbie began, inching closer to the queen who had crouched to meet his eye. "Though I am afraid the help we can offer might not be exactly what you were expecting." He added.

"If it means that Arendelle will have an heir and that Anna and Kristoff may still be together then it doesn't mat-" Elsa began, eyes determined.

"- Is it dangerous?" Anna interrupted, sensing the troll's apprehension and feeling suddenly rather concerned for her sister's safety. The troll shook his head. "Because if Elsa's in any danger then I just – Kristoff and I will just..." She met Kristoff's eyes, sadly shaking her head. "... I won't put Elsa in danger."

"That isn't your decision to make," Elsa re-joined, adamant that Anna's happiness would come before anything else. Even if it meant risking her life. If she could do anything to make up for the anguish she had caused her sister over the years, then she would. And recently, Anna had given her own life for Elsa, so what kind of a sister would she be if she wasn't prepared to do exactly the same?

"Pabbie wouldn't suggest anything dangerous," Kristoff defended. The troll looked up to the mountain man, gave a smile and then looked back to the queen and princess.

"There is no danger, Elsa. My only concern is that it might quite _different_ from anything that you may have been expecting." He reached out to take Elsa's hand and look forlornly into her blue eyes. "You see, as one that wields ice, your body is too cold to harbour life."

Elsa pursed her lips; she had always known it was the ice. She could never be certain but now, hearing it aloud, made it all too real; this ice, as wonderful as it may sometimes be, was the reason she was almost forced to condemn her sister to a loveless marriage.

"I had always suspected that the ice was to blame. But why? May I not even bear a child like me; surely they could withstand the cold?" Elsa asked. Grand Pabbie shook his head, the other trolls gathering closer with sadness in their rocky features and the knowledge of Pabbie's impending words in their eyes.

"All life is born of warmth – of love; it is essential for growth. Even a child born of ice, such as yourself, cannot be born by the chill of your womb," he explained. "It is this way so that those that bear the gift of winter cannot conceive. And so that their gift remains with them until the time comes for them to depart this world. Upon which, it will be passed on to another; an abundance of magic-wielders would cause imbalance in the world."

"So how is it that you intend to help; from what you say – even if I were with child by magical means – they surely would not survive?"

"It is possible for a child to born of your blood, therefore making them eligible for your throne, but not from _your_ womb." He began, lifting a hand as Elsa began to question his meaning. "Another woman might bear your child if a potion of your blood is used to co-create another life within them."

Elsa and Anna just stared at the elder troll, the weight of his words sinking in. Elsa rose to her feet and looked to Kristoff then back to the troll.

 _Oh dear._

Elsa really wasn't expecting that. Her face paled as she realised what accepting help from the trolls would entail.

In order for the child to be legitimate – as it was already going to be hard enough to convince people that the child was indeed hers considering another woman would be birthing it – Elsa realised that a marriage would have to take place between herself and this other woman so that the child could indeed be considered theirs. And then the infant could be recognised as a product of them both – joined to them both in every way as they were to one another.

The implications of that situation churned Elsa's stomach, her cheeks turning pink, and she felt a sudden anxiety consume her – like a black smoke filling her lungs, squeezing her stomach and strangling her brain. The air around her grew frigid and she noticed Anna in her peripheral vision take a step back, breath fogging before her lips.

It seemed both Anna and Kristoff were just as speechless as she was.

Be careful what you wish for, lest it come true.

 _Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear._ Those words wouldn't stop repeating themselves in her mind as she tried to rein in the chill that was emanating from her body. This whole idea was mad – the craziest thing she had ever heard. And, if she was being honest, it scared her half to death. She never thought that she could… _oh dear…_

But if this were the only way she could produce an heir and ensure Anna's happily-ever-after then so be it.

"So, how would this all work?" Elsa asked, trying to seem unfazed by this shocking news.

"Well, first you'll need to find yourself a wife."

* * *

Elsewhere in the world, revenge was on the tongues of tyrants; plots and plans laid carefully out on the table as war was plotted; passion and power at its heart.

A smirk grew on pretty red lips as the poison dripped into the glass, swirling into the red of the wine – disguising itself amongst the layers of sweet and tart flavours. Drop by drop by drop... Death was on the cards and war soon to come. Then power and love would soon follow suit, allowing her everything she had ever desired. She would take it all back – every last debt she was owed, every last debtor would get their comeuppance. Drop by drop by drop...

* * *

 **A/N: A couple of you guys guessed that the trolls would be the ones to help out and you were right; nobody else really has the power to "cure" infertility.**

 **Thanks a million to everyone that reviewed; your comments really give me confidence to keep writing and it's great to hear that everyone is liking this so far. I hope you continue to like it and continue to review because it's great to hear from you all!**

 **Massive thanks to my beta reader JustNeedToReview; your help is great, and I am very grateful for all the tips and notes you leave. You really help me improve, and help my confidence so thank you very much!**

 **\- Fly :D**


	4. The Drink That's Mixed With Suicide

**A/N: Welcome to another chapter, guys. Thanks so much to everyone who has faved, followed and reviewed; I'm so grateful that you took the time to do so. It's such an awesome feeling when I see that someone has faved, followed or reviewed because it means someone likes what I'm writing and that's the best feeling.**

 **Thanks to everyone including: ForeverTwatDarius, PacingThePewsInAChurchCorridor(love the name btw), Thatfrozenguy, Ice Wraith, AU Over Canon(even if your review was a little strange), KyoTheCatLover, Guest, enochpowell, CasualCactus Thatfrozennerd (I don't know if you're the same person as Thatfrozenguy, so I'm thanking you separately), Alkus, Cassie-the-Librarian, Evbro55, Jojowolf28, Milvetta, SilverWolfGirl5, entropia86, kuroneko200, theSadOldOne, tamakaru2, Winter Garnet, Taiteilijan, SuperNova co, SmilingStarcat and ImpVarjack61.**

 **I don't own Frozen; if I did I would be rich and not stressing my arse off at uni.**

* * *

*{-} **Red For the Drink That's Mixed With Suicide** {-}*

Over the next few days, Elsa continuously found Anna at her bedroom door – at her study door – at the dining table – in the library, protesting the entire thing.

That evening as they arrived home, Elsa was subjected to the first of many arguments.

"This is insane! You can't seriously be considering this?" Anna yelled, expression incredulous.

"What else can I do, Anna?" She replied coolly with a raised brow. Elsa held out her hands to show that she was open to any suggestions. Seeing the frustration in her sister's face at the entire situation, she wondered if that was the way she looked.

"But- "

"- No buts. My decision is final. If there is anything I can do to ensure your happiness, then it will be done." Elsa said tone implying it was absolutely _not_ up for discussion.

Had she been in any other mood, Anna might have laughed at the opening of Elsa's rebuttal. But, being the stubborn and rather annoyed little thing she was, she continued to argue. Day after day, she argued and argued.

Elsa was not to be swayed though. She knew – from the very moment the old troll had said it – that she would go through with this plan. It seemed the only way they might all – Anna, Kristoff, herself and her kingdom, that is – would be able to go forward and still be somewhat happy with their lives.

* * *

So, the next day, when Anna made yet another attempt at convincing her to drop the idea, Elsa was still convinced that this was the right thing to do. Anna kept trying but Elsa knew that this was what she wanted to do; she would do anything for Anna – anything to ensure her a happy ending to the nightmare that had been their lives before the coronation.

Anna was adamant as ever that Elsa was doing the wrong thing – giving up her own happiness for the sake of Anna's – and the princess was having none of it.

"I won't have you sacrificing your own happiness for me." Anna said angrily, having tracked her evasive sister the library. Elsa met her eyes sadly.

"I won't be sacrificing _anything_ though, will I? I have nothing to fight for but _your_ happiness."

* * *

Even a week later, Anna was just as tenacious as she had been on the day they discovered the unorthodox solution. And that morning, she was being particularly persistent.

She had taken to using some non-existent, future lover of Elsa's in order to convince her not to make such a hasty decision, as though the false promise of some future man would sway her.

"So, you aren't in love right now, but what if the right guy is just around the corner?"

"He isn't." Elsa said flatly. Anna could only frown.

"You don't know that. I'm sure the right guy is out there for you, Elsa."

Oh, Elsa _did_ know. There was no man out there for her and – even if there were – he wouldn't be passing by anytime soon. That, she was certain of.

"Being with a prince for the sake of propriety would bring me no joy. You know, I would give the world for you to be happy, as you would for me." Elsa said, meeting displeased teal eyes once more. "You know, I wouldn't be happy if you were miserable, so why don't we explore this option as it seems to be the only way at least one of us can be content?" She added forlornly, taking Anna's hand in hers. She brushed her thumb over her knuckles, adamant that this was the only way.

A sorrowful smile graced the princess's lips. Her eyes softened though they showed remnants of reluctance as she pulled Elsa into her arms. The queen had seen the urge to argue in her eyes and she had seen the expression she so often caught in the mirror – guilt and defeat.

A long week it had been. Both queen and princess had argued their case and, no matter how much Anna protested, Elsa was queen, and her decision was final. She would ensure that Anna could marry Kristoff if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

"Your Majesty, surely you are joking?" Eriksson asked, brow cocked. She stared back at him with a stolid expression, quite the opposite of _joking_.

"No, Master Eriksson, I am not." Elsa replied, her stoic countenance unchanging. The councillors glanced sceptically at one another; they were all wondering what had possessed her Majesty to propose such an absurd thing.

"Ma'am, you claim these... magical beings may grant you a child if another woman would be willing to act as a surrogate mother, but why does that make a marriage necessary?" Brekke questioned.

"The child must be legitimate or else they cannot ascend to the throne; this would render the whole purpose of my having a child pointless, yes?"

"Yes, but, your Majesty... do you really believe this to be the wisest choice? It is certainly rather unorthodox and, whilst homosexuality is not entirely unheard of, such a choice may not be received in the best way." Elsa's brow twitched at the implications of Brekke's words, her cheeks flushing rose red.

"Are you implying that I desire such a relationship?"

"No, no of course not, ma'am. I was merely observing that it would certainly seem that way to others when the easier option would just be to marry Princess Anna to a prince."

"You forget that that is _not_ an option; Anna will marry whomever she pleases. I will not have her forced into an unnecessary marriage when I now have the means to provide an heir without sacrificing her freedom." Elsa said in a warning tone, hostility on the tip of her tongue.

"So, you aren't the least bit concerned about the repercussions of such a proposal?" Eriksson asked, nose twitching as he tried to prevent his spectacles from falling down the bridge of his nose once more. Elsa met his eye – blue on blue.

"No. There is no law preventing succession as there is with morganatic marriage. I don't see why not. This way everyone wins; Arendelle has an heir, the princess can be happy, and we have formed an alliance with another kingdom." Elsa answered, seeming rather satisfied with the arguments she had provided in support of her case.

A hush fell over the courtroom; both nervous and indecisive glances were exchanged amongst the councillors.

"You are aware that this may lead to trouble with the people, ma'am? Arendelle has never known such a thing to occur in the royal family and I believe it might cause quite a bit of unrest. And, considering the trouble we are already experiencing with those violent protesters, I would remind you to proceed cautiously," Brekke concluded, meeting her monarch's eyes with concern in her dark orbs.

Elsa felt it in her words and in her stare. But she just could not bring herself to consider it to be of higher importance than Anna's contentment.

"It will make no difference to the people and if they stir appropriate actions may be taken to quell their concerns. I will do everything I can to ensure Anna's happiness-"

"- Even put your kingdom at risk?" General Nilsen asked, cutting in with his brash baritone voice.

Elsa bristled at the interruption but had to remind herself to stay calm if she wanted them to believe she was completely in control of this situation. That meant attempting to quell the prickling of frost at her fingertips.

"I will readily protect my kingdom, should the need arise, but that does not necessarily mean it will. Arendelle has been a peaceful kingdom for decades and others have left us alone over the years. I see no reason why this proposal should change anything."

"Because it will cause outrage – scandal! People will talk, and you know it." He retorted. Elsa nodded thoughtfully if only to make him believe she was considering his words. "Talk leads to rumours and rumours to fear. Fear leads to war."

"Indeed, they will talk. They _talked_ when my mother and father passed, when my magic was revealed, when it was rumoured that the princess was courting a common man. Nothing was done because the other kingdoms are not as brash as you would like to believe; they know the consequences of starting a war with us. They know what I can do. They fear that they will not be able to beat it and so, they keep to themselves."

"You are so confident in your abilities?" Nilson's brow raised questioningly with the beginnings of what seemed like a patronising smirk forming on his lips. Elsa knew he had been in his position a long time and she knew that he had doubted her as a ruler but, until now, he had never voiced his concerns.

"General, I will not tempt fate by claiming I could ruin an army of thousands but, should it ever be necessary, I would defend my kingdom to my dying breath."

He bowed his head, the crown of his head barely covered by thinning, grey-auburn hair.

"I can only hope you're right." Came his quiet reply. "And that this doesn't come back to bite us."

"Though, I can't help but wonder when you will start putting Arendelle first" He added simply, cocking his head slightly. Elsa raised a questioning brow. "Only, it seems that – at this moment – you aren't."

"Arendelle will always come first – how dare you suggest she does not." Elsa growled.

"Surely not; from where I stand, it seems Princess Anna comes first. And always will." He looked to Halvørsen for support, knowing that he – as the captain of the guard – would understand the danger this proposal could bring to Arendelle. Halvørsen would not meet his gaze.

Elsa's features hardened in annoyance.

"Arendelle benefits from this as much as she does." She replied flatly.

"There is a far greater risk. We don't know how the people or other Kingdoms will react."

" _If_ they will react. And, if they _do_ , I shall deal with it." Elsa said harshly, finality in her voice.

Nilson made to argue but Elsa cut him off.

"My decision is final, general." Elsa believed that, in the unlikely event that the troll's method failed, Anna and Kristoff would already be wed and so none of these matters could be further disputed; their children would have to be accepted as they would be the only children in House Árnadalr and therefore the closest eligible heirs to her throne in terms of blood.

* * *

That afternoon, a proposal was sent to the Kingdom of Venetia proposing the joining of their two kingdoms through the partnership of Arendelle's queen and Venetia's princess.

The terms of the proposal were generous. Venetia would have unlimited access to Arendelle's ice market and would receive 14% of Arendelle's annual timber supply.

Venetia had been agreed upon as Halvørsen claimed to have heard that the Italian princess had disgraced her family years ago and that her father was now eager to wed her before her biological clock expired.

Elsa had been hesitant at first to take advantage of such a situation but had decided – if that was her only option – then so be it. Despite the feeling of guilt that settled in the pit of her stomach, she knew it was in Arendelle's best interest and her guilt would increase tenfold if she were to force Anna to marry a prince instead. She simply could not allow her sister to compensate for her own misgivings.

* * *

It just so happened that the queen also received a letter that afternoon. One of quite different nature, but altogether just as depressing.

She had to read it twice to really make sense of the words on the parchment. A frown settled on her face. Such a shame.

The King of Dubois had committed suicide not a few days before.

Elsa hadn't known the Frenchman well, but he had visited Arendelle once or twice in the past year and she had found him to be pleasant enough.

She remembered that he was a tall man – towering her by at least a foot – and that he had been ruling France for many years. He had been ruling since long before her birth, even.

Elsa remembered being in awe of the confidence he exuded and wished that she would one day be so sure of herself as he was. So firm in her position and confident in her station, that the opinions of others would not bring her down. She had always wanted to ask him how he found it within himself to be so indifferent to the opinions of others.

But, with his daughter Princess Charlotte soon to be taking his place as ruler of Dubois, it seemed she would never get the chance.

Elsa knew the princess, not personally of course, but he knew she was older than herself by almost ten years. She was also very beautiful and had quite the reputation as a "free" woman with rather loose morals – amongst other things.

Despite her rather shallow knowledge of the soon-to-be Queen of Dubois, Elsa would never have pegged her as a murderer. So, when rumours arose that the princess' spite and greed were the cause of his death, she found herself rather sceptical.

Surely one would not poison their own father, would they? Apart from everything else, what about the suicide note that was discovered beside his body written exactly in his hand?

* * *

 **A/N: So, that's one more down and goodness only knows how many more to go until I decide that I'm done.**

 **Any predictions on what Charlotte might bring to the table/what kind of character she'll be and how she could rev up the drama...?**

 **And yes, I just stole Dubois from** _ **A Streetcar Named Desire**_ **because I read it in English Lit and thought poor old Blanche deserved a shout-out. That girl was done dirty by everyone. 'Nuff said.**

 **The Princess of Venetia will be making an appearance either in the next chapter or the one after that, depending on how my sleepless brain decides to write it. I think you're gonna like her... eventually...**

 **Finally, massive thanks to my beta reader JustNeedToReview; you've helped me so much and I'm extremely grateful!**

 **Fave, follow and review; I'm so happy when I see new reviews, faves or follows in my inbox!**

 **\- Fly :P**


	5. Mountains and Valleys

**A/N: Another chapter, you say - yeah, finally, another chapter. Sorry to have kept you waiting so long; life gets in the way at the most inconvenient of times. Anyways, enjoy!**

 **Still Don't Own Frozen (Seriously, my piggy bank ain't that fat...)**

* * *

*{-} **Mountains and Valleys and All That Will Come In Between** {-}*

Cristina was absolutely seething. How _dare_ he. How could he do this to her?

The clouds melted into the sky, mottled with spots of blue as the heavens clawed away at them, wounding them and tearing them to pieces. Sky-blue and ocean-blue merged on the darkening horizon – so different, yet surprisingly similar.

She sighed as they drew nearer – the outline of Arendelle's docks growing clearer. She thought – if only for the sake of propriety – she should give a polite introduction. But then again, she never believed her father would sell her to the Ice Witch for some frozen water and wood.

So maybe not.

 _Fucking unbelievable_. _  
_

She had to have been on this boat for at least two weeks, and she was just about ready to kill someone. She was angry – cheated and lied to by her own father – and the anxiety of actually coming face-to-face with the witch, only made her feel worse. In fact, anger didn't even begin to describe the way she was feeling.

She knew that many people were aware of the "incident" - as her step-mother had so kindly taken to calling it - and she knew that her father had wanted for her to find someone to settle down with.

His fatherly concern soon turned to desperation. It took very little effort on her step-mother's part to convince her father that this sounded like a pretty good idea.

And, though she never wanted to admit it, her step-mother had her father's favour, and there was nothing she could do about it. Daddy's little girl had been pushed out by some withered old hag with a sickly, silver tongue that had been dipped in the most potent of poison.

The crew avoided her like the plague, and her step-mother's saccharine smirk burned the back of her eyelids. Her father had oh so conveniently been 'burdened with urgent business' the day she set sail.

"Alone." She shook her head at the waters that lapped the side of her vessel. "Wedding the witch alone." A dark, depressed chuckle passed her lips as she lifted her head to gaze at the kingdom in which she was now condemned to spend the rest of her miserable life. "Alone – just as I've always been."

Well, alone was not entirely true as she had her small guard detail – small, meaning three guards – and her dama di corte, Fabia, accompanying her. _Three_ guards - that's how much her father cared. Hopefully, these they would not be too greatly missed by the castle's security.

Cristina just hoped they didn't encounter any pirates on the way into Arendelle or they would all be dead; these morons were about as useful as a wet paper sack.

She may as well have been alone for all they had spoken to her; it was as though they could sense her ire radiating off of her in waves and so had chosen to keep a respectful distance.

The captain of their vessel yelled instructions to his crew against the growing wind.

A young sailor – perhaps even younger than herself – approached her with wide eyes.

"Your highness, we – we um we'll be docking shortly."

"I would be devastated if I weren't so eager to be off this ship of morons."

He lingered for a moment longer – awkwardly. She raised a shapely brow at him and found herself cruelly enjoying the way his face drained of colour as he continued.

"Arendelle _is_ a lovely country, ma'am. I-I-I'm sure that the rumours their queen is cruel are mostly false."

"It's no matter; she'd find herself quite outmatched against me." The lad's eyes widened, and she found herself unable to suppress a smirk; intimidation was one her many tactics that she planned to use in order to make her obligation in Arendelle a little more bearable.

Closer now to the prison that she would be forced to call home, Cristina could think of only one word befitting her father at that point.

 _Stronzo_.

* * *

Kristoff knew he was lucky. He was so grateful to have been blessed the way he was.

A smile grew on his lips as he watched the copper-haired princess chasing Olaf through the trees. She had a beautiful grin on her beautiful face. All of this had almost been snatched away from him and even the _thought_ of having to spend his life without her – to watch her marry some pompous prince – filled him with dread.

It wouldn't even have been the jealousy that would've killed him. It would be living with the fact that Anna would have been miserable. That's not to say he believed he was the centre of her happiness or that he thought he was the only one that could give her love; Kristoff certainly wasn't that arrogant. But he knew she didn't want a prince. Especially not after Hans.

At that moment, with joy in his heart, he realised how much they had both completely changed one another's lives.

Without her, he would never have come down from the mountains and joined civilisation. He wasn't quite a hermit, but he was pretty close as his closest friend was a reindeer and the majority of his social interactions were with rocks – so yeah... he was basically a hermit.

He also would never have found someone that he connected with – a real person with whom he could share his thoughts and feelings, and his love. Kristoff didn't believe that he could have ever fallen in love with anyone else; Anna was so perfect, and he adored her; giddiness blossomed in his chest every time she smiled.

Without him, she might have died by the hand of a manipulative, conniving prince and the world would have lost the wonder that was his Anna. Anna and Elsa would never have found their way back to each other and Arendelle would likely be buried in about forty foot of snow. He'd call that an achievement and considered himself the luckiest man alive for having been given the opportunity to love Anna.

* * *

Back at the castle, however, Elsa was _not_ feeling so lucky. In fact, she was feeling rather anxious; having nervously awaited the princess' arrival for almost two weeks, she had been given time to think about all of the ways everything and anything could go wrong.

 _Oh dear._

Elsa really hoped nothing went wrong. Especially not after she had argued her case to Nilson; he would never let her hear the end of it if any maladies resulted from her decision. Not to mention all the complications that would _actually_ come with being at war with another country. She would be expected to fight for her people and she would; she would fight for them until she had nothing left and then some.

But would she be able to save them? Good grief, she didn't even want to _think_ about it.

She had spent hours convincing them that this was the best course of action. She knew it wasn't, but she wouldn't have it any other way; Anna had already had too much taken away from her and Elsa was adamant that neither True Love nor freedom would be added to that awfully long list.

 _Is it all worth the risk?_ She asked herself before giving a slight shake of her head. _It's for Anna, it's always worth it; I'd be willing to take any risk for her._

That, in itself, was something to be quite ashamed of. The fact that she was willing to put her sister's happiness before that of her kingdom's safety, scared the young queen. Would she really be willing to put Anna before everything? Everything and anyone? Always?

Which brought her to thinking about this poor woman she had practically dragged from her homeland in order to birth her child. Would she ever come before Anna – as marital vows stated she should?

 _You know she should!_ Elsa growled internally. _She should come before anyone else; everything – right down to your vows – says she should. And we would have to spend a lot of time together…_ The queen pondered, wondering if she could ever begin to care for this woman to the point where she would, not only be obliged to choose her over Anna, but also inclined to put her before her sister. _But, with Anna… we've just begun to know one another again… I don't know if I could choose -blood or wedding band… I think Anna would always come first._

But she would have to wait and see. Or, at the very least, hope that such a situation never arose.

* * *

The people of Arendelle that were milling around the streets paused to observe the boat from which she had entered their kingdom. Her pathetic excuse for a guard detail stood between her and the common folk, and she couldn't help but think it made her look ridiculous; she was never one for pomp and circumstance. Fabia stood beside her and whispered encouragement in her ear. Cristina gave a terse smile.

She adored Fabia; she had practically grown up with the woman, and she was more like her sister than a handmaiden but, at that moment, not even her comforting words could make her feel any less aggravated or betrayed.

 _I swear she's the only person back home that I wouldn't gut if I had half the chance._ Cristina mused darkly. She was fed up of being judged – fed up of being betrayed – tossed back and forth from suitor to suitor without so much as a thought as to how she felt about it all.

Fabia was the only one that ever cared; she always asked how she was. She sat with her and talked for hours when these feelings of rage and bitterness seemed too much to bear. Fabia was like the sister she never had – she had plenty of sisters, just none that she actually liked.

But, being in such a position where not even her closest friend could comfort her, Cristina shot her a questioning glance; she needed to know where the woman got her optimism from because she felt like she would need some. And soon.

The feeling of eyes on her only stoked the fire within her chest. All of these people watching her walk – almost willingly – into her prison, made her sick. Did they not care either? Did not one of them care that their queen was essentially buying a stand-in womb on legs with their resources?

 _Idioti._

* * *

Suddenly, Halvørsen burst into the parlour where she was due to meet the princess upon her arrival. And, considering the news he was about to deliver, he seemed oddly calm.

"Your Majesty, I come with news! Smoke rises from the Eastern Woodlands – we suspect rioters."

"Rioters – in the Eastern Woodlands?" Elsa felt a sudden panic flare in her chest. "Captain, the princess left for those woods this morning."

"She wouldn't allow her guard detail to accompany her." Halvørsen frowned then added, "I insisted, your Majesty, but the princess was adamant."

"No guard detail – is she mad!?" Elsa could not believe her ears; she had warned Anna of the dangers that awaited them outside of the castle walls, and still, she insisted on ignoring her.

"I've sent the town guard to apprehend them, ma'am. She is in no danger."

"How can you be sure? What if – in order to spite me – they would harm her? I can't allow that to happen, Halvørsen – take me to them," she replied, anxiety filling her being as the idea of Anna being in danger flooded her thoughts.

He agreed to escort her to the woods, and suddenly all thought of the arriving princess disappeared from her mind.

The Eastern Woodlands were sparse – the smallest of the woodlands in Arendelle. That at least meant that it shouldn't have been too difficult to locate the princess

Despite the sparsity, had Halvørsen not been present or the large cloud of smoke not visible over the brow of the hill, Elsa couldn't have been sure she would be able to find anything in these woods. She wasn't really the outdoors type; she would much rather read about the great outdoors than experience it for herself.

All of a sudden, she felt a great weight crash into her, pushing her back a few feet.

Blinking in surprising, she found Halvørsen leaning over her, and an arrow thudded into the tree she had momentarily been standing beside. Had she not been so nonplussed, she might have blushed at their proximity. His breath cascaded over her face; he was so close. Her already thumping heart accelerated.

She hadn't the time to thank him before he took her by the arm and lifted her to her feet – dragging her after him to take cover behind a boulder.

They waited a moment and, when she was about voice her gratitude, he raised a hand to silence her and gave a quiet shush. And, had she not heard the moaning of men in the distance, she may have been slightly aggravated by his abrupt interruption.

"That wasn't meant for us," he whispered, nodding to the arrow embedded in the bark of the birch tree just a few feet away.

Clamouring and clattering sounded ahead, the harsh thud of steel against oak, evidence of commotion – likely between the town guard and the men they were looking to apprehend.

Halvørsen held his hand up, signalling her to stay put and remain silent. And she did; she trusted him.

The groans of fallen men reached their ears, and Elsa felt a panic bloom in her chest; she couldn't be sure who it was that had fallen but, she prayed to God that neither Anna - nor her castle guard - were harmed.

Halvørsen was the first to notice the ice creeping from beneath the queen's shoes and, in an effort to comfort her, he lay a hand on her knee and placed a finger to his lips – hoping that his eyes expressed kindness.

Shocked by his touch, her knee jerked in response. The only thing stronger than her surprise was her perplexity.

 _Why aren't we doing anything? Good men could be dying, and we're just waiting here – surely, we have the element of surprise…_ The queen mused as she remained crouched beside the captain.

"Should we not help?" She whispered, concerned about the continuing commotion ahead. Surely, they should help?

"I'll go. Wait here a moment." Elsa frowned; she couldn't believe that he really wanted her to wait when she had the potential to be a great help.

"I shan't sit back and watch."

"Please, your Majesty. Just a moment; I wouldn't want you to get hurt." His eyes almost expressed sadness – or was it compassion? It was always so hard to read him; it was almost as though every emotion he donned was a mask.

Still crouched, he rounded the boulder and held a hand up – signalling Elsa to remain where she was until he deemed it safe enough for her to follow.

He moved tentatively as if he were waiting for something; he crept farther and farther away.

Frost continued to blossom beneath her feet and – as the racket ahead grew louder, almost as if the men had been spurred on – her anxiety grew.

Heart racing. The din of men in battle. The crackle of ice beneath her shoes. She couldn't sit here and wait. So, it was then that she decided she would sneak around the other-side in hope of catching them off-guard.

But suddenly, as she turned, another arrow shot past her face – bouncing off the boulder and clattering harmlessly to the ground, having been dangerously close to achieving its target.

Eyes wide and panic-stricken, Elsa faced her would-be killer.

He was tall and dark-haired, she observed, but her frantic mind could pick out no detail of his appearance save for the disgust in his eyes.

He dropped his bow and drew an iron sword from his left hip. Despite its simplicity, it was still a deadly weapon – still capable of killing her in the hands of a half-decent swordsman.

In a flash, he was racing toward her with a malice in his eyes that she had never seen before. Taking a step back, she raised her hand sharply, and a barrier of ice shot up from the ground between them. His sword caught in the cold shield. Despite his efforts to remove it, it remained stuck, and so he rounded the blockade with fury burning in his dark eyes.

As panic blossomed, her conscience evaporated; suddenly she was not so concerned about harming him.

With a wave of her hand, an icy gust forced him back. He stumbled back a few steps but her efforts to repel him only served to anger him as he seemed evermore determined to reach her. So, fists clenched, he pressed on against the cold with a glint of disgust in his eyes.

Elsa raised her hand as though lifting something unseen into the air. Then, stamping a foot on the ground and pushing forward with her palm, an icy burst surged toward him.

With all the force of a blizzard, the gust of arctic air pushed him back and threw him into a tree just a few feet back. Crashing into the tree, his head connected with the trunk with a _thud_. He lay on the ground, slumped against the tree.

Lowering her hand, Elsa stared for a moment at his unmoving form. Dead or unconscious? The latter she hoped.

However, as a distinctly female scream ripped through the air, all feeling of guilt was forgotten, and Elsa set of running in the direction Halvørsen had gone – all notion of stealth thrown out the window at the thought that Anna was in trouble.

Heavy breaths and chest heaving as she sprinted toward the commotion, Elsa was met with a sight that was... odd to say the least.

A large, androgynous effigy made of wood was stood in the centre of the flames – a crudely formed crown visible upon its head. She supposed that was meant to be herself.

Glancing around, she saw there were far fewer castle guard than there were rioters – outnumbered two to one, at least. Was Halvørsen really so confident?

"Elsa!" Came a voice to her left – Anna!

She met her eyes – panicked and confused teal stared back.

Elsa hadn't the time to be angry with Anna at that moment; ire at her ignorance would have to be addressed later for Elsa was barely able to avoid the swipe of a sword – metal almost grazing her cheek as she jolted back in shock.

At the end of the sword were fiery eyes and a stony expression.

Those eyes scared her; they were hateful and angry. A second motion of the sword broke her gaze. Quickly, she manoeuvred out of its path, a sharp pain erupting in her cheek as the blade had met its target second time around.

As the woman before her brought her arm back down for a second swing, Elsa was nudged aside, and the sound of steel on steel rang through the air.

Halvørsen had somehow materialised beside her and was struggling against the attacking blade.

Taking a step back and rushing forward with his momentum, he caught her off-guard, and she stumbled back. The captain used this opportunity to strike her across the face with his fist, knocking her to the ground with a grunt.

Elsa sensed an uncomfortable feeling settle over the opening in the forest. It was almost akin to confusion; they seemed unsure what to do – shocked even. The ruffians glanced at one another, questioning each other as an awkward haze of uncertainty filled the forest opening.

Then came the strangest thing of all: they dropped their weapons. Just dropped them – surrendering without a fight. Elsa met Anna's eyes, and they shared a look of apprehension.

The few guards from the castle moved to apprehend the surrendering rioters.

Halvørsen glanced at her, his gaze questioning and awaiting instruction.

"I want them all questioned." Looking over at the smouldering pile of wood that was supposed to resemble herself, she raised her palm and expelled frost from her fingertips.

It flowed effortlessly from her hand and seemed to dance around the effigy, coating it in her ice and dousing the flames. The fire hissed and crackled as ice suffocated flame – the choking black smoke fizzling out high above the treetops.

The guards hauled the offenders to their feet and ushered them back to the castle with stony faces.

All of a sudden, Anna was crashing into her with arms wide open. Her arms instinctively wrapped themselves around her and – if only for a moment – Elsa's irritation was forgotten.

Kristoff stood idly to the side, watching. He had gotten himself a fair beating; his cheek was bruised, and a small nick bled on his left biceps.

"Elsa, your face..." Anna whispered in horror. Raising a hand to her cheek, Elsa found blood on her fingers. She looked sternly at her sister; she remembered her frustration at the princess.

"My presence might not have been necessary if you had just allowed your guard detail to accompany you." Anna frowned, and for a moment, Elsa thought she was going to erupt in anger herself.

"I don't need them following me around everywhere."

Elsa's brow cocked, and her lips parted incredulously at her sister's nonchalance.

"Look around, Anna. Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Stubbornness was a known trait of Anna's, but Elsa didn't think that it extended to insanity. So, when Anna replied, she was rather shocked.

"Everything's fine; you're just overreacting."

Elsa exchanged looks with Kristoff beside her; he seemed equally unconvinced.

"Kristoff, please tell me I'm not crazy. Am I being unreasonable?" He glanced uneasily between the two sisters, knowing both were equally stubborn and one was guaranteed to be miffed at his reply. But Anna's safety was worth risking her being annoyed with him for a while.

"I guess it's not crazy to have them accompany us." Anna's head whipped round to glare at him in offense. "It's not like we've anything to hide and it's safer this way; I just want you safe."

Then it was her turn to cock a brow and cast a deadly look.

"I can't believe you." Looking between both her sister and her boyfriend, she saw their concern and – rather than warming her heart – it angered her.

At that moment Halvørsen chose to appear beside Elsa to deliver a reminder.

"Ma'am, do you recall that the Italian princess is awaiting your presence at the castle?"

And like that Elsa's thoughts were thrown back into a spin. A curse almost slipped past her lips, but she gave no reply.

 _Oh dear, oh dear, oh_ _ **drit!**_

* * *

Upon their arrival back at the castle, the guards proceeded to usher their prisoners into the dungeons whilst Elsa hurried to find the princess. Anna walked anxiously behind Elsa as she briskly made her way to the lounge with panic pumping through her veins. Kristoff settled beside Anna at a slow pace, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the queen's shoulders and the chill in the corridor.

The doors to the lounge were thrown open and Elsa was met with the sight of a very pretty and very, _very_ displeased princess.

A cocked brow and unwavering amber eyes told Elsa that she was in trouble.

* * *

 **A/N: Well that was odd. Why would they all just drop their weapons and surrender like that? You'll find out soon enough!**

 **You've met the princess, albeit only briefly, and you'll see more of her in the next chapter. I think you'll like her eventually though she may seem like a bit of a bitch at the moment. I'd love to know what you think so far, so leave a review if you've got the time.**

 **Wish Elsa luck in her confrontation.**

 **Oh, and for anyone that's interested, a dama di corte is basically a handmaiden/serving lady and stronzo means asshole. In any instances where Italian is used in speech, I'll just put the English translation in brackets beside it so you don't have to leave the page to google translate (I hate having to do this because you can't copy and paste the text; you have to keep going back and forth :/)**

 **Bear in mind that I am not fluent in Italian. I only know a little and most of my knowledge of Italian cursing has come from playing too much Assassin's Creed. My translation may not always be entirely accurate - it may even mean something ridiculously different, but please don't lynch me if it is; Google Translate is at best unreliable and my own knowledge of Italian is a little limited...**

 **Fave, follow and review if you like it guys.**

 **\- Fly :D**


	6. I'm a Beautiful Mess

*{-} **I'm A Beautiful Wreck, a Colourful Mess** {-}*

For a moment there was only silence. A weighted, dreary, awkward silence, thick with guilt and unspoken accusations.

That was all about to change. Well, the unspoken part anyway...

"È scortese tenere una donna in attesa. ( _It's rude to keep a woman waiting._ )." Elsa cocked a questioning brow at her. There was something about her voice – not husky nor threatening, neither smooth nor melodic – it was rough and sultry and, Elsa imagined, she had used it to convince many a man to bend to her will.

Immediately though, she jumped into an apology, feeling she owed this poor woman at least an explanation as to why she had been sat here on her own for goodness knows how long.

"Princess Cristina, I sincerely apologise; my absence was completely unintended. "

Anna could only admire the calmness with which her sister spoke. She doubted she could respond to her so coolly; there would have had to be at least a little fire in her reply.

Cristina studied the queen with a pout and cocked brow; she was determined to show her that she wouldn't be treated like an idiot. She wouldn't be second best to her _too_. She wanted to hold all of Elsa's attention, right now and probably forever, if only to be able to say that she held it. That's what she did: commanding attention and gripping people from within with her words, if only to feel powerful.

She was angry. She had been furious before she had arrived, but doubly so now that she had been forced to await Elsa's arrival.

"And what, pray tell, was more important than attending the arrival of potentially the most important guest you'll ever receive?"

Elsa noted that that was twice she had gone without addressing her correctly. And, whilst she wanted to be angry at the complete disrespect it conveyed, she appreciated that this was a strenuous situation; any aggression on her part would likely only result in this whole thing going up in flames... or snowflakes.

"There was an altercation in the forest, your Highness. I had to attend in order to ensure the safety of my people." She tried to command the ice at her fingertips to quell its irrational excitement.

The valid excuse only stoked Cristina's agitation. Stepping closer, she made sure to hold Elsa's gaze with a glare. The tension in the room was thick; the air was sticky with her ire.

"And I'm supposed to accept that? Am I supposed to spend the rest of my days just waiting around – waiting for you to decide whether or not you have time to attend to me!?" She bit back in frustration. Anna cringed at the waves of irritation radiating off of the princess for it was her fault that Elsa had been preoccupied.

"I have apologised. I am extremely sorry that I was not here to receive you upon your arrival, but I think you're being rather unreasonable; my people are of utmost importance." More prickling at her palms caused her to take a deep breath and try to refocus – see things from Cristina's perspective.

The princess's anger and discomfort were her fault after all; if she hadn't selfishly acquired her assistance, the woman would still be in the comfort of her home country, untroubled by Elsa's woes.

Cristina scoffed and shook her head, that heavy, burning feeling settling in her stomach again.

"So, send me back." She shrugged insouciantly, lips upturned in indifference. "If I'm not to your liking, _your_ _Majesty_ , then simply dispose of me and find yourself another wife; I'm sure there are plenty more women whose fathers' would grant them no choice in the matter."

Elsa had been quite aware of the fact that this woman _probably_ didn't want to be here at all and that her father had the final say over whether she came or not. But that didn't change the fact that what was done was done and she could only hope that, with time, this woman would become less hostile.

Though the mocking way in which she used her title implied that it might be a long while before such feelings of animosity were buried. It also didn't change the fact that Elsa already felt every bit of guilt about the princess's current predicament.

Before she had a chance to respond though, the woman was in her face – mere inches away. She whispered, her voice like thorns: sharp and deadly though not wholly unpleasant, the saccharine sweetness of rose petals in her tone dampening the harsh cut of her tongue. There was something oddly attractive and impressive about the way she spat her angry accusations with such cloying charm. It was potentially terrifying, but only served to invoke the queen's curiosity.

"Do you know what my father said to me, before he sent me here?" Elsa could make no reply because the absolute anger in her whiskey eyes was captivating – somewhat scary and intense.

"He told me how good this would be for me. He reminded me of all my mistakes and how this might help erase them – giving me one last chance to expunge my poor reputation and alleviate the shame I had brought to my family over the years." She shook her head with an exasperated, humourless laugh.

"Years ago, he would have fought for me. But now, he just couldn't care less. And it's for that reason only, that I wish that this arrangement is successful. He doesn't believe in me, and I won't allow him the satisfaction of yet another failure. I am tired of people underestimating me."

Her face remained stolid, unfeeling. Her eyes conveyed no emotion, though through those irises of sun-kissed mahogany, Elsa could see the pain with which she spoke. She was frustrated and upset, and rightly so. "So, may I be shown to my chambers." It came so quietly that Elsa could be certain she was the only one to hear. It was polite and so soft – completely opposite to the harsh tone she had taken on only a moment ago.

Kai escorted the princess to the guest quarters upon Elsa's request. And, once the princess was out of sight, Elsa turned to Anna with an expression worthy of a thousand curses. Though not one passed her lips, the words she did allow herself, had just as much impact.

"You see? That could just as easily have been you." She raised a brow, daring her to retaliate. But she received nothing but guilty eyes. "Is it so much to ask you to let me keep you safe? That's all I ask; I'd give everything for you to be safe. I'd give up anything for you to be happy. Some people don't have that same luxury, Anna. So, please, when I'm trying to keep you from harm, will you just listen."

* * *

Seething didn't even begin to explain the burning, blistering rage that bubbled beneath the surface of her skin. She wanted to scream and shout and shriek and screech her complete and utter vexation.

She had been so close to happiness, once upon a time. Once upon a time, she had believed that all would be okay and that her suffering would end.

She had loved, so deeply and so quickly. And she believed she had been loved equally in return. But people were horrid, jealous, judgemental creatures that couldn't allow one another anything if it didn't benefit themselves directly.

She remembered every detail. Soft lips, gentle hands, sultry words, and delicious displays of affection beneath her bedsheets. Oh, the absolute pleasure of just being in the presence of a person that didn't want anything but for you to be happy.

Despite there being so many others, it was as though she were the only person in the vast ocean of the world and she was the one she wanted to spend all of her time and emotion on.

Cristina had felt that infatuation that could only be described by the most worthy writers, depicted by the most affluent artists and sang by the most marvellous musicians.

The feeling that swelled in your chest like a warm sunrise – your long lonely heart pricked red by the blushing crimson of rose petals, threatening to give out under the stress of the permeating rays of another's affections, uplifted and soothed by the birdsong of shared giggles and gentle words. It left her utterly breathless. It was gorgeous – absolutely fantastic, while it had lasted.

The kind of youthful infatuation that made you feel like a girl and not a woman, so tender and careful, virginal and brand new, invigorating and wholly overwhelming in all the right ways.

So close.

So _fucking_ close.

She had been so close to having all of that and it had been cruelly snatched away by people that were too selfish to see past the ends of their own noses. People that didn't realise love came in many forms, and that it could not be confined to their expectations and ideals.

That smirk – that fucking smirk that made her want to rip out handfuls of hair and punch something. She could have killed her – her step-mother, that is. She had been the one to ruin everything; Cristina could have killed her. With her bare hands. A thousand times over. Without hesitation.

And now she was condemned. Forced into a life she had no wish to lead with a woman she had no love for. The worst part of it was that there was nothing she could do about it.

* * *

Anna knocked feebly on Elsa's door, unsure as to whether she would receive her company after the Italian princess's rather awkward arrival.

She paused, listening for an invitation to enter. No such thing. So, she knocked once more, determined to garner her sister's attention.

Despite their 'open door' policy, Anna would not force her way into Elsa's room; she wanted Elsa to open it herself because she knew that meant she wanted to talk and didn't just feel compelled to acknowledge Anna's attempt at reconciliation.

But she _would_ apologise at least, even if Elsa wouldn't open the door.

"Anna, please just go to bed."

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry that I got angry before; I know you're just trying to keep me safe, and I should be grateful for that." There was a long pause as she waited for Elsa's reply.

Though it seemed it wouldn't come. "And goodnight," she added solemnly. She hesitated a moment, eager to see if her sister would open the door at last.

She eyed the door knob for a second longer and, lo and behold, Elsa emerged with an unexpectedly calm expression.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things," Elsa replied. Anna shrugged in an effort to dismiss her concern.

"I understand."

"Do you?" Elsa asked, brow hitched in question. Meeting her sister's eye, Anna raised her brows and nodded.

"I do; I know that you're feeling guilty, but you shouldn't be. If anyone should be feeling guilt, it's me; she's only here so I can have what I want."

"No… It's wrong – this is all just wrong." Elsa shook her head solemnly. "Condemning another woman to such a fate is just as bad; I just couldn't let it be you." Anna give an uneasy upturn of her lips. "Not you; I don't know what I would do without you here."

"On the one hand, I'm so happy that Kristoff and I can be together. But then I feel so guilty; what if she loved someone too?"

Elsa gave an uncomfortable sigh, shifting awkwardly in the doorway.

"There's something I need to tell you. I think it's only fair." Her teeth took her bottom lip hostage as she mulled over how she should say it. "There was a clause in the contract – the one the king and I both signed – and it stated that, if after a month, the princess was adamant on returning home, then she could."

Anna's eyes widened. Could that mean it was still possible she and Kristoff were unable to wed? Shaking that selfish thought from her head, she smiled sadly. Of course, Elsa would include such a clause; she didn't want this woman miserable any more than she wanted Anna miserable.

"That's good. At least she has _some_ choice; I feel so guilty knowing she's been forced to come here."

"He refused to sign it until I had it removed." Elsa's shoulders sagged with this admission and Anna's heart clenched.

"He what?"

* * *

"It's disgusting isn't it?"

Fabia gave a half smile to her princess; she was unsure how else she might assure her that everything would be okay.

"I could kill her, Fabia."

"You couldn't." The young woman gave a frown. "You wouldn't; you're too kind."

"I wouldn't bet on it." Cristina growled, eyes flashing ire at the other woman.

Her strides were slow and familiar as she stepped toward the princess and sat beside her on the bed.

"Lo so. Lo so. ( _I know._ _I know_.)" Reaching for Cristina's hand, she gave an encouraging squeeze. "She's the devil's spawn," Cristina scoffed in agreement. "Il diavolo incarnato. ( _The devil incarnate)."_

"You're damn right."

"But you can't hate her forever."

"I can try," Cristina spat.

"Well, try as you might, it won't change the fact that you're here, will it?" Fabia reminded her, giving a matter-of-fact shrug.

"Here in the witch's castle," she groaned. Fabia shook her head at the princess.

"Come now Cristina; you know you'd rather be here than in Venetia."

"That's quite besides the point, don't you think?"

"At least _she_ can't follow you here."

"She'd be an idiot if she did; I'm serious when I say I'd kill her."

Sat beside Cristina on the bed, Fabia took a moment to observe her. The princess was angry, she didn't want to be here, and her step-mother was a wicked cow.

"You might find that you grow to like it here." Cristina shot her a filthy look for even suggesting such a thing.

"I doubt it; that witch is about as accommodating as a laggard drunk - no manners whatsoever."

Reaching across to grasp the princess's hand in her own once more, Fabia gave another smile.

"What would you have done, if it were you that were forced to choose? Would you save the one person in your life that you care for, or a woman that you had never even met?"

Cristina paused, and her eyes met Fabia's. For a moment Fabia thought she had gotten through to her. But alas, the princess was far too bitter at this moment to see any sense.

"I wouldn't have been so incompetent that I needed to make such a choice in the first place; my womb works perfectly well, thank you."

Before Fabia had a chance to protest Cristina's cruel words, however, there was a short knock at the door – sharp yet polite. She made to answer it, but Cristina halted her as she rose to open it herself, sauntering across the room, radiating thinly veiled anger.

Pulling open the oak door, the princess was met with a face that she had not expected to see again that evening.

"Your Majesty," Cristina drawled, brow cocked impatiently, slumped against the door frame.

"Princess." Elsa gave pause for a moment, she met Cristina's eyes. They were dark and unforgiving like molten bark – once sturdy and steadfast but inevitably diminished by forces outside of its control. They were pretty, Elsa observed. Far too pretty to be harbouring such defeat and sadness. "I came to wish you a pleasant evening."

Cristina's glare intensified, and Elsa almost found herself faltering under amber orbs.

"I realise this situation is tense. I know you think I'm monstrous and I couldn't agree more."

Cristina's lips parted, and a crease formed at her brow.

"I just want you to know that if there is anything that you desire – it's yours. Please, say the word and it's yours."

"Spoil all of your prisoners, do you?" Cristina asked, without missing a beat. "Or just the ones pretty enough to _fuck_?"

Elsa's brow raised, questioning her silently and Cristina wondered if anyone had ever been so crass as to question her in the way she had. And judging by the way she immediately broke eye contact and flushed bright pink, Cristina would have guessed not.

"You're as much a member of this family as Anna and I are. You're no prisoner in this castle and I can only hope that – with time – you and I may come to see eye-to-eye."

It was almost impossible to hide the shock on her face at Elsa's calm reply, and so Cristina's lips parted, and brows shot into her hairline.

Cheeks glowing a healthy pink, Elsa bid the princess a good evening and turned down the hall to retire to her own chambers.

Cristina was rather satisfied with the queen's reply; although in her words she seemed indifferent to the princess's vulgar words, wide eyes and rose cheeks proved that she had struck a nerve. And she loved that.

* * *

That foreign night, Cristina lay in the foreign bed thinking of home.

And how she was actually relieved to be away from everything.

Maria. Her father. Her siblings. All the fighting, all the time – exhausting. And, honestly, she was glad to be free of it, despite her anger at the way in which her escape had played out.

Yes, she despised the situation she was in. But it couldn't have been much worse than growing old in that castle – surrounded by people she despised.

But the last thorn in her side – the last, most important and most devastating – was the fact that she had almost been condemned for her preferences by her step-mother, and now – all of a sudden – she was in complete support because it was of benefit to herself.

She was _vile_. And Cristina couldn't wait for the day that she got her chance to show that bitch how badly she fucked up when she decided to make her life a misery.

And yet, despite the weight of home having been lifted from her shoulders, tears spilled from her eyes. With the pillow dampening beneath her, she tried to push all thoughts of animosity from her mind, but sadness was that insistent "friend" that couldn't take a hint; it persisted, and her shoulders began to shake as sobs wracked her body.

She hadn't allowed herself the luxury of tears for almost six years. Afraid of being seen as weak – prey to be pecked away at – she had stifled the droplets of despair ever since her first love had been cruelly snatched from her.

But she felt oddly safe here; in these foreign sheets and this foreign castle, she felt able to release the anguish that had been brewing for over half a decade.

On the other side of door though, with guilt bubbling in her throat, Elsa cast her eyes to the ground.

 _You've reduced her to tears, you bitch. What's wrong with you?_

* * *

 **A/N: So… Cristina's a bit of a bitch. But understandably so; I'd be pretty pissed if someone did that to me. Wouldn't you? Don't cry; good times are coming… sometime in the future…**

 **More to come soon, including the unravelling of the Charlotte or Cristina theory I know some of you have been speculating about in reviews and PMs.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you liked it. Please leave a review, favourite and follow; it's a joy to get the notifications in my inbox every time someone does!**

 **Finally, thanks to all the new faves, follows and reviews!**

 **Thanks to my beta JustNeedToReview; your help is much appreciated.**

 **And shoutout to CasualCactus for being an awesome friend and someone that has helped massively with a lot of my ideas for this fic and where it's going. Love ya!**

 **\- Fly :D**


	7. The Only One That's Holy

**A/N: It's been a while since I updated, I'll explain a little bit more about that at the end. But for now, I'd just like to say thank you to everyone that's still reading and any new readers. Hope you like it.**

* * *

*{-} **It Must Be So Lonely To Be The Only One That's Holy** {-}*

A smile grew on her lips, genuine and pleased. She would finally be able to have the wife she desired to share her life with without the hindrance of his imposing nature and aged opinions.

And who better to take as a wife than the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on.

Everything would be different now; everything she wanted was within her grasp. She could finally be happy after all those years of being oppressed. She would take what she wanted; there was no one to stop her being happy anymore.

After sending friends from across the border to assess the situation and report back, she was sure that her beautiful bride would not be far behind; at last she could have what she had desired for many past painful years.

Having learnt of the disgusting arrangement, she had immediately set to trying to right it. She was going to fix it; she would fix it all.

Her fair bride was waiting for her, whether she knew it or not.

* * *

The dark rings under Elsa's eyes did not go unnoticed by Gerda that morning and, as the handmaiden raised a brow in question, the hardness in the queen's eyes warned she shouldn't comment.

But the handmaid was never so easily dissuaded from prying. She poured a cup of tea and offered it to the young queen.

"I could have brought you something to help you sleep…" Elsa gave an exhausted sigh, accepting the teacup from the older woman.

"She was crying again."

Gerda frowned – oblivious for just a second or two as to whom Elsa was referring. Then, as it dawned on her, she gave a terse smile.

"She should feel at home. She needs you to be her family now."

"I have no idea how I'm even supposed to talk to her."

"Well, you'd best get an idea because you'll be doing a lot more than "talking" when she's your wife," Gerda chuckled at Elsa's displeasure, evident in wide eyes and pink cheeks.

"Don't be so uncouth, Gerda."

"Just make her feel special - appreciated," the handmaid replied as she reached to retrieve the breakfast tray. "She's a pretty girl… appreciate her; make her feel like you want her here," she added before pulling Elsa's study door closed behind her, giving the queen no opportunity to argue her sage advice.

* * *

Cristina stared out of the window. The fjord was actually beautiful – the expanse of clear calm waters shadowing that of the canals in Venetia.

She thought as she gazed. She thought about all the things she had left in Venetia. And it didn't sound so bad; she had left an emotionally abusive stepmother, an uncaring father, judgemental siblings...

"But it was home," she whispered, breath fogging on the glass. "Questo è ridicolo; non voglio tornare (This is ridiculous; I don't want to go back)." Lifting her head from the cool pane, Cristina glanced one last time at the rippling fjord. The lure of escape like a whisper in her ear from il Diavolo himself.

The letters had gotten her through a tough time. The contact had been completely unexpected, but entirely welcome. She often wondered if anyone knew – if anyone ever suspected Fabia of risking her job and life to stash and receive illicit love letters on the trading boats coming in and out of their harbour.

Fabia was her only real friend; she had proved it on many occasions.

Running those letters back and forth whilst maintaining secrecy had only been a small part of it; Fabia was there for her every time Maria got to be too much to handle, every time her father was too stupid to notice, every time one of her sisters made a sly comment, every time she was on the verge of beating some handsy prince into an early grave.

Fabia was always there.

And she was still here. Beside her, even so far from home. And though it had taken three days, Cristina finally came to realise that she had lost all the things that made her life miserable and kept the one thing that strived to make her life joyful.

She was the sister she never hated.

So, if she could successfully navigate this new kingdom and its queen, things might not be as bad as she had first thought.

* * *

"Things are going well. I think…" Anna mused.

Kristoff raised a brow; well aware of Anna's optimistic nature, he knew to take her observations with a pinch of salt.

"So, everything is still really awkward?" he concluded.

"…yeah," Anna replied, deflated.

"I expected as much." He wrapped an arm around her as they sat huddled on the grass verge, observing the rippling fjord.

Anna's head was on his shoulder and, as bad as he felt for the foreign princess, he wouldn't have given this up for the world. Nothing could convince him otherwise and no one could give him anything better than this – not even fame or fortune could replace the joy that being part of Anna and Elsa's family brought him

"Elsa's struggling to get on her good side," Anna said, breath fogging before them.

"I know it's hard," he squeezed her shoulders, pulling her into his chest and placing a cold kiss upon her crown, "but we deserve to be together. Just remember how hard we tried to get back to each other – you died, Anna! And I'm not about to let anything get in the way of us being together."

"I would do anything for you," he said into copper locks.

"I love you," Anna cooed into his chest.

Each time just as heart-warming as the first, those words made Kristoff's chest flutter.

"I love you too. And I promise, nothing is ever going to come between us again."

* * *

 _She's right. You need to make her feel like more than just a womb,_ Elsa thought.

But that would have to wait until later; she was on her way to the library to research available French trading routes. Soon-to-be Queen Charlotte of DuBois had proposed trade expansion and an increase in the goods passed between their kingdoms and, whilst Elsa saw no reason to decline, she still would prefer to read up on the additional trading opportunities that the French kingdom had to offer Arendelle. They already traded a great many useful things with the French kingdom, but if the increased trading proposal was not of benefit then there seemed to be no point.

Pushing the large door to the library open, she slipped silently into the old shelves she called friends.

Elsa was used to traversing these shelves in silence. She found the lack of company made it easier to concentrate.

Rounding the corner of one of the many large bookcases, she met questioning copper irises.

"Is the prisoner not allowed to leave her cell?"

She could only stare for a second, lips parted.

"No, no! It's fine – you're fine... do as you wish; this is your home now too."

Cristina rolled her eyes.

 _Home! Hah._

"If that's what you want to call it…" she mumbled, turning back to the shelf she had been perusing.

Elsa's thoughts had slipped away from her in that moment of shock, and now she couldn't recall – not for the life of her – what she had come in here for...

Instead, she tried to make conversation.

"Have you had the chance to explore Arendelle yet?"

Cristina didn't bother meeting her eye, instead choosing to continue to observe the tomes on the shelves.

"I wasn't aware I was allowed to leave, if I'm being entirely honest with you," she replied.

"Arendelle is as much your home as it is mine; you're free to go wherever you please…"

"As far away from you as possible is most preferable."

Elsa took a breath. _Don't rise to it, she told herself. You know she's upset. Don't retaliate; it just makes you look worse…_

"I know this isn't the most ideal –"

"- Ideal? No, I'll tell you what isn't ideal," Cristina spun to face her with deep-set vexation flickering in her eyes.

"It's putting on weight after you've been fitted for a dress, it's breaking a heel in the middle of the dancefloor, it's telling your father that you're gay, ten minutes before the start of your sixteenth birthday celebration where hundreds of princes are lined up in hopes of engaging you," she growled and Elsa felt her cheeks turning pink at the princess's vigour and proximity.

"but this... is just a joke."

Elsa's mouth formed an 'o' and she could do nothing but stare for a second. And she could think of nothing intelligent to reply. So, when words tumbled from her lips, she immediately cursed herself.

"Sixteen?" _What the Hell are you doing; what's wrong with you?_

The princess's expression said it all – cocked brow and incredulous eyes, lips upturned in a mocking smirk. She scoffed and shook her head.

"Well, some people aren't ashamed of what they are, and don't feel the need to hide it away from the world."

Elsa's heart skipped a beat, her insides knotting themselves.

 _She's talking about the magic; surely, she-_

"I haven't got anything to be ashamed of. You, on the other hand, I'm not so sure..." Cristina quipped before brushing past her with a satisfied smirk on her lips. Her words were spoken like sugar, delivering deeply rooted bitterness oh so sweetly.

Elsa could only continue to stare at the space Cristina had occupied only moments ago.

Wow...

* * *

 _Well, that was a complete disaster. What a complete and utter waste of time!  
_

He hung his head, disgusted and disappointed at how horribly wrong it had all gone.

Some of his best fighters were locked up in the dungeons; he would have to be cunning to get them out.

The witch still suspected nothing though, so it wasn't all doom and gloom; at least he still had his head on his shoulders.

But he would have to devise an escape; his plan could not come to fruition without them.

The queen would die and Arendelle would have a real ruler of pure blood, untainted by such filth as her unholy magic. He could only hope that the introduction of this harlot princess would spur his rebels onward in their efforts.

His rebels would be victorious. The people of Arendelle would surely conquer their malign queen, and he would see to it that his vision became reality and that she would be erased from Arendelle's history.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," Elsa mumbled. Steely ice-blue eyes stared back. Oh so familiar they were, often her only company over the years.

"Gerda said you need to make her feel welcome."

"But how?"

"Buy her gifts?"

"That's ridiculous; that'll only make it seem as though I'm trying to buy her affections…"

"God, I don't even know how to talk to her without sounding like an idiot."

" – More so than you do already?" Came a voice from over her shoulder.

Elsa spun round to meet Anna's amused eyes. "Anna, I didn't see you there…"

"Clearly, it seems you were too busy engaging in a heated debate with your reflection…"

Elsa glanced back bashfully at the mirror on her vanity.

"Just thinking out loud…"

"You're still struggling with Cristina?" Anna asked.

"I don't know what to do. I need to make her feel like she belongs here, but I don't know how..."

"Why don't you throw her a ball?"

"An entire celebration, just for her?"

Anna tutted and shook her head in mock disappointment at Elsa's incredulous expression. "Women like to be made a fuss of, Elsa."

"We can't afford to host a ball for no reason…" she argued.

"No reason? Honestly, Elsa, where's the romance? You need to sell this if you're gonna convince her that she belongs here," Anna protested, keen for Elsa to realise that if Cristina saw how welcoming Arendelle was, then she would begin to warm up to the place.

"I'm not trying to make her fall in love with me. I just want her to feel at home in Arendelle."

"It could be a 'Welcome to Arendelle' ball…" Anna replied, emphasising her excitement by waggling her fingers, her own eagerness shining in her teal eyes; if anyone could find a reason to throw a ball, it was Anna.

Elsa just cocked a brow and shook her head.

"Alright well, we need to work something out otherwise she's gonna hate us forever," Anna said.

"Can you blame her?" Elsa asked, raising a brow in question. Anna gave an uncomfortable smile and scuffed her shoe against the floor, casting her eyes down.

"We could find out what she likes…"

"And how would we do that?"

"Talk to her…?" Anna asked, shrugging as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"If only it were so easy," Elsa scoffed.

"Well, have you tried?" The princess asked, tone suggesting Cristina was the most easy going person in the world.

Elsa raised a hand to her chest, offended by Anna's assumption that she hadn't made any effort.

"Of course, I have. She has every reason to despise me; she's not even allowed to go home. But I have no idea how I'm supposed to make her feel at home if she doesn't want to be here," she added, glancing up at Anna questioningly.

"Show her around Arendelle… or teach her to skate – do they have snow in Venetia? Maybe take her up the north mountain and show her the ice castle; I bet she'd find that pretty cool…" Anna replied with a shrug.

Elsa shook her head, worrying her lip with her teeth. This was one of many conversations she had had with Anna since Cristina's arrival concerning the foreign princess's well-being.

"As much as I would like to seize the opportunity to get to know her better, apart from the fact that she and I can't seem to hold a conversation, I'm afraid that I just don't have time."

* * *

"What do you mean: 'I don't have time'? Let me on that boat right now," Fabia growled, glaring at the lad before her.

"Miss, I can't; this boat has come straight from –"

"– I know where it's from." Fabia said. "Now let me on board," she added sharply.

"Queen Elsa has given you explicit permission to board this boat, I'm presume?" Came the voice of another man to her right. He was tall - six foot at least - and his blond hair made him appear far more innocent than he sounded

"She has. I can go and get her if you would like… She's in a very important meeting, but I'm sure the interruption would be very much appreciated…" Fabia replied, cocking a brow at the tall sailor, evidently the captain of the vessel.

He looked her over and recognised her clothing as that of the handmaidens that worked in the castle.

The men glanced at each other for a second, fearful words conveyed in one look. They would absolutely not like to get on the wrong side of the queen.

The captain stared back at her, observing her for a moment with hard eyes in an attempt at dissuading her. However, it was evident that Fabia would not be leaving without boarding that boat.

"With the queen's permission, I suppose I could allow you to board…" he mumbled, his pride seemingly dented at the idea of having to allow her to board after he had attempted to intimidate her.

Briskly sliding passed him and onto the deck of the boat, Fabia set to completing her objective.

There was always a distinct wooden crate with unique scratchings on the side, seemingly innocent to any passers-by, but to someone who knew what they were looking for (as she did), it was fairly easy to spot.

Wedged between the crate and its neighbour, was always an envelope with a red wax seal.

Only this time... there wasn't.

With a frown, Fabia reached further behind the crate in search for the letter. No such luck.

 _What? Why isn't it here?!_ _The princess will be so upset..._

* * *

"What do you mean, it's missing?" Cristina asked, expression incredulous. "She promised me it would be here – are you sure you checked everywhere?" She added, voice pitching higher as her throat constricted at the thought of being abandoned by even her true love.

"Everywhere it could be. I'm sorry; I can't find it anywhere," Fabia replied. She knew Cristina relied on those letters; they were the only contact she had had with her for years... "I-I'm sorry. I'll look again."

"No, Fabia. Don't worry; if it's not there then she obviously didn't send it," Cristina sighed.

Eyes downcast, she turned to leave her friend, but Fabia caught her wrist.

"I'm sure she did. Maybe it just got lost..."

Cristina shrugged with sadness in her eyes and pulled her wrist from Fabia's grasp. "Or maybe, she's finally realised that it's hopeless." She shook her head, turned from her handmaiden and continued on her way down the hall.

She supposed that, if her lover wasn't on her way to rescue her, she might as well play nice with her host. The Ice Witch seemed to be the only place she may be able to get some attention in this castle. And she seemed a pretty enough distraction to sink her teeth into.

* * *

Elsa stared at the letter in disbelief, cursive black ink written in the finest hand beckoned her to read on. Eyes flitting voraciously over the words, she drew a sharp breath. Such filth was scrawled across the page in her hands. Elsa felt tainted for having read it, disgusted for enjoying it. Oh, how the words made her stomach flit.

As she continued, filthy thoughts crowding her mind, she took her lip between her teeth, painfully aware of the fluttering between her thighs. The letter spoke of slick folds and hardened buds, gentle fingers caressing supple breasts and a sharp bite at her neck-

"- What on earth do you think you are doing?!" Elsa's eyes went wide as she attempted to hide the filth in her hands – too late!

Cristina glared at her with seething copper orbs, anger and indignation apparent. All thoughts of seduction disappeared from her mind as she stared at the parchment in the queen's hand.

"I was – It was on my desk…" Elsa explained.

"On your desk?"

"Yes, I-I have no idea how it got there…" Cristina's frown deepened, only serving to make Elsa feel more disturbed at having been caught read such a thing.

"Of course, you don't… Don't you know it's rude to read other people's letters?" Cristina growled, snatching the parchment from between the queen's fingers.

"That's for you?" Elsa asked incredulously.

Cristina raised a brow, smirking at the queen's shock.

"Well, it's not for you, is it, darling?" She could have chuckled at the blush that burned alabaster cheeks.

"I di-"

"- Who would ever write you such a letter?" Cristina teased, advancing on Elsa with venom in her eyes and ire on her tongue until their proximity was almost stifling, the queen backed up to the edge of her desk.

Cristina thought for a moment that she caught Elsa's eyes flicker to her mouth.

"Wouldn't you love someone to write you something like that? Wouldn't you love someone to touch you like that? Wouldn't you love it if someone were to do those things to you, caress your thighs and kiss your neck," leaning closer, Cristina was sure she saw it as Elsa's eyes flitted from her eyes to her lips and back again – arousal, raw and desperate, Elsa's desire to be touched shone in her eyes like telling stars. And she was going to have a Hell of a time teasing her for it.

"No one is ever going to want to touch you like that, Elsa. I'll only do it when I have to, so enjoy it while it lasts…"

The distance between them was almost non-existent, Cristina continuing to glare into cerulean irises as the queen stared back speechlessly.

She could see the inner workings of the queen's mind. Desire, fear and scolding so evident in her blown pupils – scolding herself for such thoughts, so scared of admitting them. But Cristina knew those eyes; she had seen them in her own reflection many years ago.

Now, of course, she couldn't give a damn what anyone thought. Though it seemed Elsa wasn't quite as indifferent to the opinions of others.

"As much as I'd like to tell you that you shouldn't be ashamed of the things you want, I just can't bring myself to comfort the witch that shackled me to her bedpost."

The flush of alabaster cheeks brought a poisonous chuckle to her lips, and as she was about to continue her onslaught of insults, a knock sounded at the door.

Both heads snapped to the door with the knock, and Cristina slithered over to meet the person on the other side with a pleased smirk.

"Good afternoon, your highness. I didn't expect to find you here..."

"I was just leaving actually, Kai; I have nothing left to say to Elsa," she replied sourly, casting a filthy look over her shoulder.

The man almost seemed to fumble between defending the queen and politely replying. Meeting Elsa's eye he attempted to express some semblance of sympathy. Deciding it was best to brush off the princess's brash tongue, he continued to address the queen on the matter at hand.

"Your Majesty, the ambassadors have arrived from Weselton."

Elsa frowned, confusion evident in her knitted brows. "They're not supposed to be arriving until next week," she replied.

"So I thought, ma'am, but they… seem to have arrived early," Kai said, and weary of the Weseltonians clearly unexpected arrival, he added: "Would you like me to inform them that you will meet with them later?"

"No, no. It's fine, I will… be there momentarily," she said, wondering if Weselton could have sent his ambassadors at a more inconvenient time.

"You know, I bet that Weselton sent them early to spite you – sneaky bastard," Cristina said, interrupting Elsa's train of thought. "But I can't wait to see the ugly brutes he's picked for the occasion."

That was Elsa's thought exactly; Weselton probably just wanted to cause as much trouble as possible, sending his men unannounced. "It wouldn't surprise me, but you needn't attend if you would rather-"

"-Oh, bless you, I wasn't asking," Cristina interrupted, chuckling darkly, "I'm coming."

* * *

 **A/N: So, hopefully Cristina's character starts to develop a little bit more in the next couple of chapters as well as her and Elsa's 'relationship'. We'll see a bit more from Anna and Kristoff and potentially pop in on Olaf in the next chapter. Thanks for reading. Fave, follow and review if you liked it!**

 **As for why I haven't updated in a while, uni has been really busy just recently with handing in my last couple of assignments and revising for exams. And if that wasn't enough to distract me from my writing, a fellow author has managed to capture my heart and I find myself wanting to spend all my free time talking to her or being with her. I blame her for everything. You should too.**

 **\- Fly :P**


	8. I'm Writing This Letter

*{-} I'm Writing This Letter And Wishing You Well {-}*

Once again sat amongst men that made her want to rip hair from her scalp, Elsa sighed and continued her arduous attempt at actually taking in what this oaf was saying.

Ambassadors Adler and Feldman – the Duke's latest attempt at re-establishing trade with Arendelle. Two previous pairs of ambassadors had proven unsuccessful and it seemed the Duke was not prepared to let it be; he persisted in his fruitless endeavour to reconcile with Arendelle's queen.

"… and given the loss to Arendelle, the Duke thought you may appreciate his offer of re-establishing trade; he thinks it more than a fair deal," Adler said, his tone implying that such a thing was greatly beneficial to Elsa and Arendelle.

"And why on earth would I enter into any kind of deal with that man?" Elsa asked, brow cocked at the towering man seated before her.

He stopped a moment, a frown almost forming on his face as he considered his reply.

"The Duke sees no reason as to why you should continue to deprive your kingdom of Weselton's wares," he replied.

Elsa paused before responding. She knew Weselton had benefitted greatly from their trade with Arendelle, but she wasn't willing to risk the integrity of her kingdom in order to support another. And as selfish as it may have sounded to some, her priority was Arendelle, not Weselton – if they suffered, that wasn't her problem.

"Arendelle no longer requires Weselton's trade; partners elsewhere are able to supply us with the same goods. So, I'm afraid this attempt at reconciliation is simply a waste of both my time and yours."

Ambassador Feldman had remained silent until then, but at that point he cleared his throat as though he were about to announce something fantastic that could sway her.

Impatient as she was, Elsa allowed him to say his piece, even though she could not stand to listen; at least this way she wouldn't be branded ignorant for not even entertaining their poor attempts.

"Your Majesty, it's unfair to punish the whole of Weselton based on a little upset between yourselves," he said, confident that news of Weselton's suffering would convince the queen.

Cristina's cackle startled the meeting and both Weseltonian ambassadors paused to glace between the queen and the princess, both wondering what had possessed the queen to allow her to attend such an important meeting.

Elsa's eyes went wide as the princess began to speak, dreading that she might further complicate such tense dealings.

"Pardon me, gentlemen, it's just that – as I recall hearing – he ordered her head on a pike…" she said, raising a questioning brow at the portly Weseltonian. "That sounds like more than just 'a little upset' to me."

"The prince was behind that plot, not the Duke; his men were simply coerced by Prince Hans, and I can assure you that they have been dealt with accordingly for their weakness," Ambassador Feldman replied, his face contorting in disgust, whether at Cristina or the mention of the Southern prince, it was hard to say.

Though after years of disapproval, Cristina had come to assume any disgust in discussion was meant for her.

"If it was indeed Prince Hans' plan to attack me on the mountain, why then was he the one to foil their attempt?" Elsa asked, cocking a derisive brow at the stout man.

"Clearly that was also part of his plan; with his charm and good looks, a white knight act was all he needed to take the empty throne beside you," he said, expression implying this was an obvious fact that Elsa had childishly overlooked.

"Even with twice your charisma, he'd still be a slimy, charmless prick with an inferiority complex - leaves quite little to be said about you, don't you think, ambassador?" Cristina replied, casting Elsa a sideward smirk as she revelled in the smile the queen fought to keep hidden.

Before the man could make to reply, Cristina continued: "Despite your faith in his appeal, something tells me that Hans would have had more luck gaining his father's affections than catching the queen's eye. Though it's no matter; I'm sure you've heard, the throne beside her is empty no more…"

Elsa didn't know whether to be more mortified at the fact that Cristina had openly challenged the ambassadors on her behalf, the implications of her words, or the fact that she was flaunting her royal position beside her to these imbeciles.

"Indeed, we have. Yet another decision the Duke believes you will come to regret," Adler said, twitching his nose in revulsion as his gaze shifted back to Elsa. She could hear the sneer in his voice as he continued. "He was shocked that you would stoop so low as to take on the disgraced princess, and wonders when you will come to realise the shame you've brought your kingdom."

"The decisions I make to better my kingdom are none of your business. Or the Dukes, for that matter," Elsa said, casting Adler a frown. She heard Cristina chuckle, but caught herself before she turned to glare in her direction also.

"I've made it quite clear that neither I, nor Arendelle, require Weselton's partnership, and I therefore order you both to return to your Duke and inform him that his next ignorant attempt at salvaging a trade agreement will most certainly be his last."

"Will you not even review the agreement he prepared?" Feldman asked, pathetically raising the enveloped document in his hand.

"And waste any more of my time? I expect you both to leave and inform your Duke of my decision," Elsa replied, annoyance evident in her voice. "And you tell him: should it reach my ears that the princess's name has been on his lips again, I will personally see to it that he regrets ever having said a word against her," she added, the ambassadors flinching.

Rising from her seat, she made her way towards the door without so much as a glance back at the bewildered men.

Cristina rose smugly from her seat with a smirk on her lips. She then cast the men a saccharine smile and gave a wave of her hand before trailing after Elsa, laughter bubbling in her throat.

With such a woman at her side, she practically controlled the power that flowed through those delicate alabaster fingertips; people would think twice before crossing her again, and with Elsa's affection, those that did, would surely wish they hadn't.

* * *

She hadn't expected to hear from her so soon. The letter was not entirely unexpected, but she had certainly not predicted that she of all people, would be so intuitive.

Reading it though, Charlotte couldn't help but laugh as she read on; the dumb bitch was spewing accusations but had no proof. That wretched woman certainly held no power over Charlotte anymore, so the threats no longer scared her. Not like they had when she was young and ashamed of who she was.

 _You think you're clever? I know. I know it was you. No-one else could have done it; I've seen your work, and I know how you hated him for trying to right you._

 _I remember when you were young. I remember the horror on your face as I opened that door– how quickly you jumped up. How you begged me not to tell him. The things you promised in exchange for my silence. The unadulterated desperation – how lovely it was to see you grovel._

 _So, I must ask._

 _Am I next? Am I just one of many lined up at your chopping block, you sick little girl?_

 _I don't know how you did it, but I will find out. You had better not get too comfy on daddy's throne; it always was your arrogance that cost you._

Charlotte chuckled, casting the letter aside with a derisive smirk. She didn't scare her anymore. The Princess of – no, the _Queen_ of DuBois - was no longer a scared little girl. And she made sure people knew it; she stood up for herself, and she wasn't afraid to take what she wanted. Even if it was at the expense of others.

Reaching for her parchment, she set to writing a letter of her own with a wicked smile on her lips.

* * *

"I thought you wanted us to spend more time together…"

"But I won't see him for another three weeks," Anna replied, eyes apologetic. "I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you…"

Elsa's expression ebbed from one of slight annoyance to apologetic guilt.

"It's fine, I'm sorry. Go on. I'm sure I'll survive on my own."

"Really?" Anna's eye lit up and Elsa couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips. Anna's freedom was more important than anything since The Great Thaw, even her own – Anna wouldn't suffer like that again. Trapped behind old castle walls due to no fault of her own, Anna deserved her freedom after all that time.

"I expect you back by sunset." But not too much freedom.

"Of course. I'll see you later, I love you," Anna replied, pulling Elsa warmly into her arms. "Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?"

"I'm not exactly alone, am I?" Elsa said, the concern evident in Anna's tone warming her heart. "And I love you too," she added, arms wrapped around Anna's petite frame, nose buried in copper locks. "But be careful."

Never did she think she would be close enough to Anna to smell the soap in her hair. To hold her in her arms was more than she could have ever wished for.

And Anna felt the same, to have Elsa in her arms seemed a wild fantasy not all that long ago. And now here she was, in her arms, saying she loved her – better than she could have ever imagined.

* * *

With papers piled high on her desk once more, Elsa decided she would very much like someone to whisk her away from it all in the same way Kristoff did Anna, if only for an evening.

She was sick to the back teeth of Weselton and his blathering "apologies" in which he went on and on about her coronation – how it was clearly her fault and she shouldn't have been so hasty in accusing him and cutting off trade. He wittered on, letter after letter, about how he only did what anyone else would have done in such a situation, and how she had brought it all upon herself, and yet still expected her to re-establish trade – goodness, the gall of the man.

Arendelle was just getting back on its feet after her winter had caused so much disruption, and she was still dealing with the fallout – she couldn't afford guilt over Weselton's loss.

Physically, it was as though there was never anything amiss in Arendelle; there was minimal damage from the frost. But the real damage was done to the minds of her people.

Whispers, rumours, protests, riots – resistance progressed. Elsa worried that soon her people would revolt; those that opposed her position on the throne were followers of old and had decided that, as a magic-wielder, she was unfit for their throne.

 _What next? A revolution? A coup? What am I supposed to do?_

Goodness, it felt as though she was drowning in problems; she was floundering around in the mess that had become her life, watching each issue pass her by with no way of getting a hold on it.

And then there was this whole ordeal with Cristina. In order to assure Anna's happily-ever-after, Elsa had wrongfully ripped it from another woman. She wasn't sure that Cristina could ever be happy here; she would miss her family, surely. Maybe there was someone back home that held her heart and Elsa was responsible for ruining it.

For Anna, she was willing to do anything, no matter how cruel. But that didn't stop it haunting her thoughts, infecting her with guilt or churning her stomach with sadness.

And amongst the shambolic mess of thoughts that was her brain, her mind wandered again to thoughts of being whisked away for the evening. How lovely it would be to have time away from being the queen, time away from being responsible, time away from being guilty. Wouldn't it be bliss?

 _Just to escape it all for an evening – would that be too much to ask?  
_

At such thoughts of escape, _that_ letter elbowed its way to the forefront of her mind, bringing with it that same enticing flutter as when she had first read it.

Eyes closed, she began to imagine how it felt to be touched like that. How it felt to have ' _gentle fingers caressing your thigh…_ ' Or ' _nails grazing your stomach, lips brushing your neck…_ ' That flutter, persistent as it had been, continued to bubble in her stomach, occasionally migrating between her thighs, ' _tender lips on supple skin…_ '

Then, as though on cue, there was a firm knock at her study door and Elsa was startled out of her fantasy, cheeks flushing despite the fact she was in her own company.

"Come in," she called hastily, a slight quiver in her voice.

The oak door swung open, and in stepped Kai with his warm eyes and smile.

"Your Majesty, dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Would you like me to escort you to the dining room?"

Elsa quirked a brow. "I told Gerda not to prepare the dining room; Anna is out with Kristoff this evening."

Kai chuckled, "Gerda insisted, ma'am; she says you take dinner in your study far too often."

Deciding it rude to dismiss the work that had gone into preparing dinner, Elsa thought she should attend the dining table that evening.

* * *

"Thank you, Kai," she said as he held the dining room door for her to pass.

Her stomach seemed to stir as alluring aromas of food filled the dining room as the staff were finishing setting the table. For two people, Elsa noticed.

"Gerda, I thought you were aware that Anna wouldn't be attending this evening – did I not tell you she was out with Kristoff?" she said, catching the handmaiden in the flurry of servants.

"Indeed, you did, ma'am," the elder woman replied.

"And you've set two places –"

"- should you not welcome guests to your table?" a voice from behind asked; she didn't need to turn to know whose it was; the tone – half sultry, half impertinent – was telling enough.

"I thought you preferred to eat alone," came Elsa's cool reply, turning to meet Cristina's golden-mahogany eyes.

"Maybe I need some company tonight…" the princess quipped with a wink.

Elsa's shock was evident in her wide eyes and pink cheeks. She glanced to the side to see Gerda's reaction, only to find the handmaiden had scampered away, busying herself with setting the table.

Even though it had been just over a week since she had welcomed Cristina into her home, Elsa had yet to share a meal with the princess; both often took them in private.

Elsa out of necessity; she was often busy with royal affairs, and Cristina out of sheer ignorance and a desire to spend as little time in the queen's presence as possible.

But, given her new plan, Cristina thought it best to warm up to the blonde beauty. She was a pretty enough girl, fair and slightly awkward; she would suffice in the absence of her beloved.

Though it was proving to be a difficult task. They had been seated for at least twenty minutes, the queen to her left, giving her nothing in the way of conversation, lifting her fork from her plate to consume each dainty morsel without much more than a glance in the princess's direction.

"Do you ignore all of your dinner guests?"

Elsa's eyes lifted, full of thinly veiled uncertainty, catching Cristina's judgemental brow.

"I didn't think you would want me to attempt awkward conversation," she replied, barely maintaining anxious eye-contact.

"Awkward? No…" she said, a chuckle falling from her lips as she glanced down at her plate. "I simply thought you would make some attempt to get to know me."

From the corner of her eye, Elsa caught the enticing smirk on the princess's lips.

The queen paused to scrutinise the tines on her fork, gently touching its metal tip to the porcelain plate, "I can't seem to find the words… I wouldn't wish to offend you."

"Say what you want; I find it increasingly difficult to give a damn what people say these days," Cristina replied, shrugging off Elsa's concern.

Elsa met her eye, and despite the princess's indifference, she still struggled to articulate exactly what she wished to say. "I… was curious… I don't know why you…" Awkward eye contact forced Elsa to drop her eyes to her plate once more.

Cristina chuckled and raised a brow, her pouting lips almost teasing.

Elsa's wide eyes expressed her regret at having thought it would be a good idea to begin that sentence, and yet she continued. "The Duke's ambassadors mentioned – and a handful of people seem to think – that you've done something to disgrace your family, but I don't think I'm aware of what exactly that was, or if it should even be considered as such."

 _Drit._

Cristina's brows twitched, amber eyes quivered, and pink lips parted, and Elsa couldn't quite tell if the princess was peeved or perplexed. Or both.

"Surely, you must have; I thought everyone knew…" Cristina seemed dazed for a moment, almost lost at the notion that the queen was so unaware of her past, "… shall we just say that my family did not approve of the company that I kept. And you make rash decisions when you feel like no one cares," she added, sharply stabbing a piece of fish on her plate before bringing it to her teeth and pulling it tersely from the tines of her fork.

Elsa nodded blankly, not much closer to understanding what the princess had done that was so terrible.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't ha – "

"– it's no matter," Cristina said before lifting her goblet to her lips.

Elsa noted the way her throat bobbed as she drank, wine slipping quickly past her lips as though to quash any more admissions that may come creeping out.

"But enough of that. I want to get to know the woman soon to be my wife," Cristina said, sly smile peeking over her glass as she drank once more, "the woman whose bed I'm soon to share."

"We don't have to share a bed," Elsa replied, eyes wide. Cristina brow hiked incredulously and the haste in her words only served to strengthen Cristina's resolve.

"We're getting married, you realise? We're going to have to consummate – share a bed – if for just one night," the princess said, flashing Elsa a coy smile.

"Of course, I only meant that afterwards, you may keep to your own company and bed, if you'd rather."

"And if I'd rather not?" Cristina asked, a sinister smirk growing across her lips.

Elsa faltered for a moment; her eyes flashed wide and for a few seconds she seemed unsure as to how to answer such a question, "I wouldn't stop you from taking a lover…"

Cristina's laugh almost startled Elsa out of her seat. The princess continued whilst Elsa looked on in confusion, the joke seemingly lost on her.

"Oh, you are adorable," Cristina said, "Clueless, but adorable nonetheless," she added before draining her glass, Elsa gazing back bemused.

* * *

"Isn't it nice to just be together – just us?" Kristoff asked, arm wrapped around Anna's shoulders.

"It is," she replied, head laid across his chest. "As much as I love Olaf, he can make it difficult to completely relax…"

"Yeah, he's a little intense…" Kristoff said, pulling her closer as a breeze swept past them.

"And don't tell Elsa, but I could never really shake the feeling that he was there to watch over us…" Anna said. Glancing up into orbs of near bronze, she received a hearty chortle in reply.

"I'm glad it wasn't just me; I always thought that was half the reason she insisted he come along with us," the Ice Master replied, chest still trembling with laughter.

Anna sighed contently as the blond pressed a kiss to her crown. She wondered how she was allowed to be this happy after years of misery and longing.

"How did we get here?" she asked, eyes gazing far ahead, seemingly lost in the waters before them.

Kristoff shrugged; a sigh passed his lips as he lay his head atop Anna's. "I haven't the faintest idea." A smile broke his lips, relishing the feel of Anna's warmth pressed against his side. "I just know that I'm eternally grateful for it; I've never been as happy as I am when I'm with you."

Anna chuckled warmly at his side before she lifted her eyes to meet his once more. "I'm glad you said that because we've still got a wedding to plan; I wonder if you'll be so eager once we've been over the arrangements a couple of hundred times…"

"I'm always eager to see you…" he replied, lifting her chin with his forefinger to press his lips to hers, inciting a giggle from the princess as her hands came to cup his cheeks.

Ecstasy surged through their veins as playful kisses continued, frolicking in the late spring grass of the fjord-side – such happiness and hope had so nearly been squashed by laws dated farther back than either of them could bear to think. How wonderful their lives would be once they were married.

* * *

Usually far less comfortable in her partner's company, Elsa wasn't quite sure how she and Cristina had ended up in her study, talking as though one was not shackled by the other's incompetence. But there they were, sat on the cushioned window seat, talking like strangers at a party, gazing out at shimmering stars amongst an ebony sky.

"Despite my initial apprehension, I think I've come to quite like your quaint kingdom; it's charming in its own way," she said, eyes flitting over the collection of constellations in the evening sky, "there are only so many years you can spend in Venetia before you begin to despise it …"

"I know it must have been difficult coming to Arendelle. You really don't miss home?" Elsa asked, brow cocked at Cristina's nonchalance.

"What exactly is there to miss?"

"Surely, you miss your family," Elsa said, concerned that the princess would be missing them by now as she surely would be Anna. "I could invite them to visit if -"

"- Spare me the torture," Cristina turned to face the queen with disdain in her eyes, "Possono andare tutti all'inferno; non me ne un cazzo! (They can all go to Hell; I don't give a fuck)."

Blue eyes bulged at the princess's profanity; curses rarely passed her own lips, and even then, only in her own company.

"I see…" Elsa replied, shifting her gaze from the princess, hoping her shock wasn't too evident, "I apologise; I hadn't realised your relationship was so… strained."

"That's one way of putting it." Cristina's wine glass tipped to her lips once more. "I don't miss them, and I never did."

"Ah," Elsa's gaze shifted to the wine decanter upon her desk, over three quarters drained by the princess and herself.

 _I haven't… she's drank much more than I have… hasn't she?_ Though the warmth in her cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in her chest suggested it was much more an equal measure.

"Isn't there anything I can do? I do hope you'll come to feel at home in Arendelle," she asked, raising a concerned brow at the princess.

Dark eyes met her own and a shiver ran down her spine – such an odd sensation given that Elsa had never even been so affected by cold.

"I don't," Cristina began, grief in her glower as she topped up their glasses with the crimson liquid she had come to rely on. "Venetia is my home in as far as I was born there. It doesn't hold any special place in my heart; that bridge burned long ago. That I'm here discussing this with you is evidence to that fact; my father wouldn't have sent me if he still loved me. So, you'll forgive me if I'd rather not feel 'at home' here."

Elsa gave a small smile in thanks before taking a drink. Something – perhaps the alcohol – had made her brave enough to believe she could sustain a conversation with this woman.

"I'm sure he cares. Perhaps it was simply so you didn't have to stay…"

Cristina's frown was instant and intimidating. Sharp brows angled down towards amber eyes.

"You don't know my father and you don't know me – you have no idea!" came a sudden explosion of anger as Cristina's glass came to rest on Elsa's desk with a near shattering clank.

Elsa remained silent for a moment, avoiding the princess's angry eyes.

"I know what it's like to feel like no one cares," the queen replied, glancing at the now empty wine decanter on her desk; both women had sorrows to drown, but the princess it seemed, believed she had far more.

Fuelled by alcohol and indignation, Cristina's glare persisted.

"And I don't know exactly what happened to make you despise your family as much as you do, but I can tell you that I've been through my fair share of difficult times with my own," Elsa said, attempting to maintain a stolid expression in the face of the princess's sudden ire.

"You don't know. You might know hardship, but you don't know mine. How can you if you'll never admit it?" Cristina asked.

"I know isolation. I know fear. I know feeling like no one cares. I know loneliness – "

"- I wasn't lonely! I was loved – I loved her. But I wasn't good enough for them; they don't love me, and they likely never did."

Elsa rose, setting her own glass on her desk. Holding Cristina's eye, the queen listened, attempting to mimic her father's sangfroid – his calm exterior and attentive eyes.

"I loved someone," Cristina said, tone growing harsher with each word she spoke, throat constricting around each one, "After years of being too scared, I was about to run before he decided serving as your womb would be the perfect opportunity to get rid of me anyway."

Elsa felt another pang of conscience at the sorrow in Cristina's voice. She wished she could comfort the woman before her and bring back the lover she had been denied.

"I'm sorry, Cristina," was all Elsa could offer, a desperate mutter that fell on ignorant ears.

"You've been saying that since I arrived, and yet, I don't think you are – not really," Cristina said, snapping at what she considered an empty apology. Cristina's nose twitched irritably as she stepped toward the queen with malice in her eyes.

In the dim light of her desk lamp, Elsa could see the fiery amber accents of Cristina's golden-brown eyes, and it pained her that such bitter anger was trapped inside such beautiful eyes. That she was partly the cause of that pain just twisted the knife.

Confrontation had always made her anxious, as a child and well into her adulthood. Cristina's anger was equally heart-breaking and captivating; her rage fuelled despair only cut Elsa deeper, only increasing her desire to make amends and to fight her instinct to turn to ignorance and isolation to solve her problems.

Elsa swallowed thickly, breaking the princess's gaze. "I am. I truly am. I'm so sorry. If I could have done it myself…"

Cristina's eyes flew wide and her jaw hung. "Oh, please, don't feed me that; I'd even go as far as to bet you're glad you can't do it yourself," the princess replied, her venomous words instantly etching pain and disbelief across alabaster features, her acidic tone making them sting all the more.

Elsa gaped. Her father made indifference look so easy.

Like a flipped switch, the meek, apologetic queen was suddenly as agitated as the princess herself, fury frosting the window at her back, forming intricate patterns, designs as detailed as her despair.

"Glad? You think any of this makes me glad?" the queen asked, eyes hardened like deadly pools of crystal ice. "There is nothing I desire more at this moment – if I could, I would. Knowing that my incompetence has cost you your freedom, tears me to pieces. I had no choice; unlike you, I value my family," the queen replied, her voice an amalgam of desperation, desire to be forgiven, and indignation at the princess's grotesque accusation.

"You have no idea how I wished for things to be different – to claim I'm glad that I can't fulfil this basic requirement, is simply..." Elsa's voice tapered off as she shook her head, exasperated and enraged. "When the trolls suggested this, some selfish part of me didn't care that I was hurting you; I couldn't lose Anna," Elsa added, tears tearing at her throat.

Cristina realised the venomous tongue she so often required as a defence at home had taken a course of its own; Elsa's home was far kinder than her own, and such caustic comments were not necessary. "I didn't mean -"

"- of course, you did, or you wouldn't have said it. I was devastated to learn that I might have to lose Anna to keep my kingdom, but the trolls seemed to have the answer; I'll admit that I was overjoyed at first. But if you think guilt hasn't plagued me since the moment you arrived, then you are sorely mistaken."

Cristina stared for a moment, torn between her own temper and Elsa's; she wasn't entirely sure how she felt. This situation was ideal for neither of them. She knew she had overstepped – that she was a tad zealous in her retaliation.

She needed Elsa on her side. But, as always, she had pushed a step too far, and now she was caught between caring and controlling.

Elsa stared back, watching Cristina's breath fog before her lips in the fury-fuelled chill that had eclipsed the room.

For a moment there was quiet as each woman stewed on the other's words, thoughts and feelings were silent as they observed one another – two deer caught in an icy blizzard, unable to distinguish friend from foe.

Cristina could think of nothing else; Elsa's words had pulled at her. She needed to amend her own, but she wouldn't allow herself to show weakness; she would not grovel – never again. But there was one hand that, if played right, could make amendments and still end with her on top – with Elsa in the palm of her hands.

Elsa made to speak, opening her mouth, words barely out before she felt softness.

Lips.

Against her own.

Her eyes fluttered shut as Cristina's hot mouth moved against her own. There was a whimper – her own she was sure, but her brain wouldn't allow her to comprehend much more than the tart taste of wine on Cristina's tongue as it teased her lip. A long-forgotten flutter in her chest returning with vigour as Cristina's palms came to rest on her hips.

Elsa's back pressed against her desk as Cristina leant into her. The queen used her palms to steady herself, giddiness glazing the desk beneath her fretting fingertips as the princess's lips pressed fervently against her own.

Cristina's hips met hers, spurring that desperate stammer in her stomach once more; a moan stole from Elsa's mouth, vibrating between their lips.

She could have sworn she felt that infuriating smirk against her mouth, but she couldn't care less; she was too lost in the delicious sensation that was Cristina's kiss.

For Elsa, time dissolved, minutes turned meaningless, and though she could find no reason as to why Cristina would be kissing her at this moment, she revelled in it nonetheless – her frantic brain attempting to retain the feeling of Cristina's lips, the taste of her tongue, the sweet smell of her perfume, the warmth of her hands.

The buzzing in her stomach, the tingle of her lips – Elsa had only ever imagined what it would feel like to finally kiss someone. The days she spent telling herself she could never have this, melted along with her brain, lost to the moment she had so long awaited.

Though the queen found that much too soon, those lips were gone. And she was left with wanting eyes and parted lips, breathlessly holding Cristina's mischievous copper gaze.

And as words tripped on her tongue, Cristina's smirk grew at Elsa's expense. She almost chuckled as Elsa attempted to hide her shock at Cristina's body pressed so intimately against her own.

Taking just the slightest step back, she allowed the queen the barest of breathing room before cocking an amused brow at her stammering.

"What… what was that?" Elsa asked, eyes flitting frantically between Cristina's own and her lips, seemingly scared of her response.

"An apology," was the princess's blunt reply.

Fumbling with her thoughts, Elsa could not make sense of why Cristina would not have just said the words aloud – why would an apology require a kiss; she was almost sure it was not an odd Italian custom. A kiss of that nature… one saved for someone special… one Elsa had never had…

 _Why on earth…_

However, as her mouth finally found words, the door to her study flew open and a breathless princess burst in, words already tumbling from her tongue.

"Elsa! Elsa, I'm so sorry. I know you wanted me back before sunset, but we lost track of time – and then – when we realised it was already dark – and it took forever to get back – Kristoff said he would have come to apologise but he really needed to get back and Sven needed carrots and…and – am I… am I interrupting something…?" the princess said, seemingly saturated with words with the queen at such a loss for them. Such an abundance of words seemed to flow from her, each thought interrupted by another in a desperate bit to push its way from her mouth.

Anna glanced between the women confusedly, wondering what she had walked in on; tension hung heavy in the air – an uncomfortable unease pressing against the walls of the room.

Elsa's glance shot between Anna at the door and Cristina, still standing so close to her – not as close as she had been, but certainly much closer than would be considered necessary.

"I just came to wish Elsa a good evening; I was heading to bed," Cristina said, eyes never leaving Elsa's as she held her gaze with an arrogance to rival that of the Westergaard prince. She knew she had ensnared the queen and now – cruel and calculating as a cat – she wished to tease her prey and torment her with delicate touches and hushed words.

Anna watched as Cristina leant to Elsa's ear and whispered something she could not hear, though through Elsa's wide-eyed reaction she assumed it was nothing pleasant.

But in actuality, Elsa could be no more pleased by the princess's purring in her ear, much to her own embarrassment.

"Goodnight, Elsa. I'm so glad we spent this evening together… just the two of us," she whispered, lips mere millimetres from the shell of Elsa's ear, breath tickling her neck.

Elsa swallowed thickly, but before any awkward reply could be attempted, Cristina turned toward the door, passing Anna with a smile just as sweet as it was sour.

Halfway out the door, she turned back to the queen.

"I do hope you appreciate my apology; you shan't be getting another." Then, with a wink, she turned and sauntered down the hall, unbelievably pleased with herself at the queen's complete and utter befuddlement.

Anna glanced between the doorway and her sister, brows hitched high and lips parted in confusion.

"Did I… Did I miss something – what just happened?" she asked.

Elsa met her wide eyes with flushed cheeks, seemingly just as lost as Anna.

"I have absolutely no idea," Elsa replied, eyes out in the hallway, ears following the click of heels.

Both women were left with one another, both just as puzzled as the other, both just as lost as the other.

Anna was the first to speak, defaulting to humour to diffuse an awkward situation, "Must be the wine – alcohol – makes you kinda crazy, right?"

Elsa could do nothing but give a stiff smile in agreement; she was still stupefied by Cristina's astonishing "apology". With a gulp, she attempted to clear the fog that had settled in her brain and ignore the fluttering further down.

"Where were you?" she asked.

Anna, having traversed the room to stand beside Elsa, turned to meet her sister's gaze. She lay the quill she twirled between her fingertips back on the desk.

"I was with Kristoff."

"But you're late." Elsa raised a brow matter-of-factly at the younger woman.

"It's not that long past sunset." Anna shrugged. "Besides, don't you wanna explain how you're suddenly getting on her good side?"

Elsa's fingertips traced the ebbing rime on her desk, eyes downcast; she was unsure as to whether she could face the embarrassment and judgement of telling Anna what had happened in her absence.

"I'm not."

"Well, it seems you've been getting on this evening, at least," Anna said, chuckling as she raised the empty, ornately designed decanter of wine in jest.

"I think I may have just made matters irrevocably worse," Elsa said, blue eyes downcast, seemingly regretful.

"How so?" the princess asked. Elsa reached over and pulled the decanter from Anna's clumsy hands, placing it sternly back on the desk. It was an inexpensive piece, but one of her favourites – one she had seen on her father's desk in her childhood from time to time.

"We had… there was a disagreement. It doesn't matter; I'll fix it. I'll have to –"

"- wait… can you hear that?" Anna held a hand up to silence her sister whose brow creased in concentration.

The princess hurried toward the door, beckoning Elsa to follow.

Elsa wasn't quite sure what they were listening to; she could only faintly pick up the sound of distant voices which could just as well be the staff down the hall.

Opening the door with Elsa in tow, the voices increased in volume and their presence was now clear to them both.

The sister's shared a suspicious glace; it didn't sound good. Voices echoing downstairs – loud and frustrated – caused Elsa to take a step in-front of Anna, shielding her from potential oncoming danger.

The voices seemed to be fading, but the sound of incoming footsteps grew louder; Elsa readied herself for defence.

Closer, closer, closer. The footsteps rang hard and heavy against floors of polished wood, and neither sister could fathom why someone would be running through the halls at this time.

They were getting close – almost around the corner at the end of the hall.

As Anna made to rush past Elsa to investigate, a familiar face rounded the corner.

"Your Majesty!"

Elsa's brow furrowed.

"Captain?" Elsa called out to him as he sped towards them, breathing ragged, his brow soaked with sweat.

"Your Majesty… I'm… I'm afraid I have terrible news. It… it seems the detained rioters have escaped – all of them – and the guards… the guards on their watch have been grievously assaulted," Halvørsen sputtered. Oxygen eluded him as he hunched over his knees before the queen.

The sisters stared at the captain for a moment before glancing at one another in shock.

"They've escaped…" Elsa said, turning back to Halvørsen, her voice void of emotion.

"All of them, your Majesty." He straightened himself to meet her eye.

Elsa wouldn't allow herself to falter again this evening. Her gaze hardened as she considered what trouble could result of their breakout.

"How were they able to escape – how could you let them escape?" she asked, pitching a perfect brow in question.

"I sincerely apologise, ma'am, but it seems I underestimated their conviction; they fought their way out, and in their numbers, they were too strong for the men we had this evening," he replied, grey eyes wide, "it embarrasses me that I could have allowed this to happen. I apologise, ma'am – they will be found."

Elsa stepped toward him with ire in her eyes. This was not the night for all this; she was stressed enough as it was without those rioters causing her another round of headaches.

"Well, captain, you had better hope your guards are fast because if those rioters are not found and detained by midnight, I can assure you that your embarrassment will be the least of your–"

"- Elsa… stop." Anna's voice quivered beside her, sounding almost afraid. That was enough to snap the queen from her embarrassment fuelled threats.

She paused and glanced to Anna, only to realise she was breathing mist – as was Halvørsen – and that crystals of ice crept along the hallway from her feet, violent spikes forming an erratic pattern at the captain's feet.

Looking between Anna and Halvørsen, Elsa took a calming breath – deep and shaky – before she met his eyes.

"Captain, you will find them. They are not to be allowed to cause such havoc as they have; they're a danger to my people and I won't stand for it," she replied, sternly shaking her head.

Halvørsen nodded before giving a stiff bow, his silence sour, his eyes seething. He broke eye contact to prevent the queen realising his displeasure.

"Very well, your Majesty. Continue with your evening as you would and worry not; my best men are already in pursuit," he said before turning and continuing down the hall with his head hung, silently stewing his thoughts.

As he disappeared around the corner, Anna found herself observing her sister's angry eyes glaring after him. She hadn't seen such spite in her since Elsa saw Hans after the Thaw.

"What's got your bloomers in such a bunch?"

Elsa's eyes immediately snapped back to her, softening slightly. But she didn't seem to be sharing the humour.

"It seems everyone is out to rile me this evening – Cristina, Halvørsen… I think I just need time to cool off."

Anna sniggered at the pun, but Elsa's cocked brow discouraged any further amusement.

"So, what are we going to do?" Anna asked.

Elsa chuckled in despair, shaking her head in exasperation, and met Anna's eye.

"I don't know about you, dear sister, but I'm going to bed," the queen replied, giving Anna a tired smile. "This day has been far too stressful and draining to be allowed to go on any longer."

The sisters exchanged wishes of sweet dreams and held one another in warm embrace for a moment before parting company for the night.

Anna watched as her sister rounded the corner and disappeared down the hallway. It wasn't an odd occurrence for Elsa to be stressed by the on-goings in Arendelle, but this felt different; perhaps it wasn't only stress, but perhaps fear and uncertainty tainted her sister's mind also – if there was anything Anna prided herself on, it was being able to read her sister's emotions.

But if Anna had learned one thing, it was that prying would yield nothing but arguments and often tears.

Elsa had promised no more secrets – she would come to her eventually, and she would share her woes. There would be no arguments and there would be no tears; Anna was prepared to wait for Elsa to confess her concerns.

She said no more secrets. And Anna believed her.

* * *

Infuriated as he was, Halvørsen had to keep a cool head. He had to succeed, or he just might die – no, he would die. He had seen that fury in the queen's eyes. He wished to never face such anger again. He had seen the anger in the eyes of the people she called ruffians. With anger present on either side, someone was bound to get hurt. He could only hope it wasn't himself.

His best men were on the job; the rioters were his priority. He would succeed. He had to, or everything he worked to protect could be ruined, and he would likely be dead.

And surely, after he had worked so long and so hard towards his goal, it would be an unfortunate event to lose his life to the very thing he sought to destroy.

* * *

"Forgive me, Cristina, but I'm not sure I really understand this plan of yours…" Fabia said, observing the princess's reflection with an inquisitive eyebrow in the vanity mirror.

Cristina just smirked that smirk. The one that was seemingly stuck on her lips just recently.

"What exactly is there for you to understand, dear Fabia?"

Fabia's brow twitched. "Well, I assumed – now that you're free of your father – you would make plans to rendezvous with your love, but it seems you've busied yourself with attempting to charm the queen…"

"Oh, no," Cristina replied simply, pausing as she locked Fabia's eye in her reflection, "Elsa's just a bit of fun. Mio amore and I are in the midst of making arrangements, so I may as well enjoy myself whilst I'm here; I'm sure she hasn't kept her hands to herself in my absence, so why should I?"

"A bit of fun, ma'am?" Fabia asked, raising a brow at her through the mirror.

Cristina frowned not only at the formality, but also at the doubt in Fabia's voice.

"Indeed. Something to entertain myself whilst I wait."

"And what makes you think Queen Elsa would be so eager to entertain you?" she asked as she lay one of the princess's nightgowns out on her bed.

The cackle that fell from the princess's lips startled her.

As she raised her brush to her chestnut locks once more, Cristina replied: "She's been begging for it since I arrived."

Fabia frowned once more, open mouthed, quite stunned at Cristina's show of arrogance.

"Forgive me, but I don't seem to recall her making such requests, princess…"

Cristina chuckled at the reflection of her handmaiden's incredulous expression.

"Of course, she hasn't made such requests aloud; she's far too proud." The brush flew through her hair like silk, caressing each strand as she continued to make arrogant observations of the queen's desires. "It's all in her eyes."

"You seem so sure," Fabia replied, pondering the possibilities.

"Of course, I am; non ci piove ( _there's no doubt about it_ )."

"And you're certain she hasn't swayed you? As the closest to you, I _have_ noticed the way she catches your eye…"

Cristina frowned, deep and vexing.

"Excuse me? Fabia, I feel nothing but contempt for that girl, and I want her to hurt before I leave her. I can see what she wants, and I plan to dangle it before her eyes before I snatch it away. I want her to suffer as I have had to these past years."

"You think she could love you so quickly?"

"Love… perhaps... if it's something she is even capable of. Even if not, she will surely lust before I leave her longing." Cristina shrugged.

Fabia faltered at Cristina's words. She wasn't sure that was the best idea, but Cristina was stubborn. Though Cristina had never been cruel. She had never been manipulative. She had never been deceitful.

But everyone had their breaking point – Cristina, Elsa – and it was only a matter of time before these women, both marked and moulded by oppression, refused to take any more.

"As for catching my eye, yes, she's a very attractive young woman, but I don't desire her body, just her downfall. And I don't wish to hold her heart, just break it."


End file.
